Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this short-staffed afternoon… especially for the one who likes to keep busy. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

Checklist

"Oh, good… you're early!" Inuyasha greeted when Sango put in an appearance at the coffee shop. "Shippo's off today, and my other part-timer called in sick. I hope you don't mind picking up some of the slack?"

"Not at all."

"Good. Sesshoumaru left a list for you on the board."

She stowed her book bag and coat in the back room and walked over to where the owner had tacked up his list. 'Sango, I am entrusting the following to you. Attend to them before your shift ends. –Sesshoumaru'

Curt… with a touch of hoity-toity. Smiling as she knotted her apron ties, Sango skimmed the short list. Most of the tasks were things she'd helped Shippo with in the past. I can take care of them during the afternoon lull. What's this one, though? The last item on her agenda was a barely-legible scrawl, and she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Maybe Inuyasha added something? The musical jangle of the front bell announced the arrival of customers, so Sango snagged the list and tucked it into her pocket before hurrying to take charge of the register.

It was a fairly normal day. Coffee brewed. Milk steamed. Busy people placed their orders to go, and those with time to spare splurged on big, bowl-shaped cups of latte, made elegant by Miroku's fluid artistry. Sango had grown somewhat more accustomed to the frequent giggling exclamations over the flirtatious young man's brand of charm. Founder's warm atmosphere and the low hum of conversation were comfortingly familiar… and the busyness of the shop helped stave off the loneliness that crept into too-quiet moments. Over the last couple months, she'd been coming in early for work, and she usually studied in one of the booths when her shift was over. The coffee shop was becoming her home away from home, much more so than her dorm.

Throughout the course of the afternoon, Sango used spare moments to sweep and straighten. She was making decent headway and finding satisfaction in conquering the checklist. The only odd thing was… Miroku was unusually interested in her progress as well. While she was refilling the vanilla sugar and sweetened cocoa shakers at the pick-up counter, he sidled up an asked, "How's that to-do list coming?"

With an involuntary glance to check on the disposition of his hands, she replied, "Fine… I'm nearly done."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed. "And will you get to everything on the list today?"

Sango eyed Miroku suspiciously, but slowly nodded. "Yes, I'll manage. I like to be thorough."

"Mmm." There was an anticipatory gleam in his eyes as he echoed, "Thorough."

He wandered off with a slightly glazed expression, and Sango shook her head. I get the feeling we weren't talking about the same thing. The afternoon wore on, and she moved efficiently between the tables, gathering up scattered sections of the day's paper. As she stacked them by the door, she risked a peep over her shoulder and caught Miroku watching her—again. This is getting ridiculous! He couldn't follow her beyond the designated boundary of the front counter, but that didn't stop him from following her with his eyes. His lingering looks seemed to lie in wait for her glances, and every time she checked on him, those violet eyes took on a pleased twinkle… as if she was the one who started this silly game of peek-a-boo. Determined to ignore Miroku for the remainder of his shift, Sango kept her head high and her eyes down.

It was almost time for Miroku to clock out when she finished all but the final task on Sesshoumaru's list. She'd puzzled over it, and if the final '3' was actually an 'M', then she was almost positive the last word in the phrase was 'Miroku'. Still, she needed an interpreter. As soon as she found a free moment, she approached the hanyou. "Inuyasha, what do you want me to do about Miroku?"

"I'm not convinced anything can be done about him," he quipped. "Why?"

"You added something about him to my to-do list, didn't you?" Pulling the folded paper from her pocket, she tapped the phrase in question.

Inuyasha snorted. "I didn't write that. He definitely added it himself."

Sango tsk-ed and asked, "So… what does it say?"

"Beats me," he replied with a lopsided grin. "His brushwork's amazing, but Miroku's writing has never been legible."

"I wonder what it says," she mused aloud.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Inuyasha asked, half joking.

Towards dinnertime, Sesshoumaru breezed through the door, decked out in yet another expensive suit that made Sango wonder what he did when he wasn't loitering around his shop, finessing the perfect cup of coffee into existence.

Unable to bear any more of Miroku's significant glances, she ducked into the back room just to get out of the man's line of sight. Sesshoumaru paused in the act of rolling up his starched shirtsleeves and inquired, "Did you require something, Miss Sakamoto?"

"Miroku won't stop looking at me!" she complained. The moment the words left her mouth, she realized just how childish she sounded, and her cheeks tinted with embarrassment.

Sesshoumaru's brows lifted, but he answered gravely. "If you wish to discourage the behavior, avoid eye contact."

"Good idea," she mumbled. Then a thought occurred to her, and she hesitantly addressed the tall youkai. "Can I ask you something?"

"You may."

Showing Sesshoumaru the final item on the checklist, she asked, "What does this say?"

Golden eyes flicked over the scrawl, then regarded her steadily. "I'm afraid even youkai senses are not up to the task of interpreting Mr. Murasaki's abominable handwriting."

"Oh," she sighed, disappointed.

"If you're really curious, I suggest asking him directly."

"I'll think about it," Sango said, excusing herself.

The odd dance of glances continued right up until seven when Miroku's shift ended. Sango hated feeling out of the loop; it was as if she'd agreed to something without knowing what it was. His obvious excitement was distracting, and a vague sense of embarrassment was making her tetchy.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand dropped on her shoulder. "Sango?" Miroku inquired, concern in his gaze.

"Huh?"

"You're done at nine, right?"

Giving herself a little shake, she ducked out from under his touch. "That's right," she admitted cautiously. "Afterwards, I was planning to stick around and do my reading."

"Okay, then," he acknowledged. "I'll be back."

Sango watched Miroku exit through the back room, mystified. Looking towards Sesshoumaru, she said, "He's… coming back?"

"So it would seem."

"Why?"

"He didn't specify," Sesshoumaru replied. After a moment's thought, he added, "Verbally."

Sango groaned miserably.

At five minutes to nine, Sesshoumaru glanced towards the office door and remarked. "He's back."

Seconds later, Miroku appeared with a couple of bags and a furtive expression. "Sesshoumaru, may I beg a favor?"

The youkai eyed the man's burden with interest. "Perhaps."

Adopting more formal tones, he asked, "For tonight, may I cross the boundary during business hours? I wish to sit with Sango while she studies."

"If she will allow it, I will allow it."

Miroku beamed happily and turned to Sango. "It's okay, right?"

"I… suppose?"

He used his foot to kick open the swinging door at the end of the counter, then proceeded to the little booth in the corner that Sango always used. As he began unpacking a paper sack, Sesshoumaru huffed. "Neutral territory and chaperonage by the female's representative protector. He has good manners for a wolf."

Sango wasn't sure what to make of this remark, so she stuck to the obvious. "He's not a wolf." Sesshoumaru regarded her steadily, then huffed again. This time, she was almost certain he was amused.

"As you are not a wolf either, I don't believe it poses a problem."

"What's he doing?" she whispered urgently.

"It would appear that he's getting serious," Sesshoumaru replied blandly.

"Serious… how?"

"You are being courted… in the youkai fashion."

Sango gaped at him, glanced towards Miroku, then edged closer to Sesshoumaru. "Why would he do that?"

"Such things are usually done in order to secure a mate," he calmly replied.

"Don't I have any say in this? Shouldn't he ask me if I want to be courted?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice down. "I never agreed to date Miroku; he's never asked!"

"Verbally," Sesshoumaru quietly reminded.

Pressing her fingers against her temple, Sango tried to gather her wits. "And what about you?"

"Hnn?"

"You're my employer, not my family. What makes you my 'representative protector'?"

"My brother's absence?"

Sango choked down a hysterical giggle. "This is so mixed up. I've been adopted by two guard dogs, and I'm being 'courted' by the world's biggest flirt… who happens to think he's a wolf."

Sesshoumaru regarded her thoughtfully. "Mr. Murasaki has never courted another female."

"That's surprising," she opined sarcastically.

"Miss Sakamoto… perhaps you are not aware?" Sesshoumaru inquired in an undertone. "Wolf-youkai are famously bold with their opinions and their feelings. When it comes to choosing a suitable female, a wolf will…"

Sango paled and put a hand on Sesshoumaru's arm, halting his explanation. "Are we about to have the youkai equivalent of 'the talk'? Because I'm not sure I'm comfortable…"

"No, Miss Sakamoto," he interjected. "As you have already pointed out, Mr. Murasaki is not actually youkai. However, there is one thing you must understand if you are to appreciate the full extent of his intentions."

"Which is…?"

"A wolf may chase many tails and howl at many moons, but when his choice is made, he mates for life."

"But he's not a wolf," Sango reiterated.

"He thinks like one," Sesshoumaru patiently stated, then waved her towards the back room. "Your shift is over, Miss Sakamoto. Please, stay as long as you like; I will be tending to the books after closing should you require assistance."

"Thanks," she muttered.

There was no excuse to dawdle in the back room, so Sango hung her apron on its hook and scooped up her book bag before returning to the front. Miroku was already entrenched, his long legs draped across the length of one of the booth's seats and a rather dusty-looking tome occupying his hands. It was all very non-threatening… if you didn't know about the underlying intent. Miroku glanced up from the pages of his book and smiled, and Sango weighed her options. Play dumb… let him down easy… or make a run for it.

"I ran over to Peep's. Hakkaku says 'hi', and Ginta sent cookies." He flipped back the lid on a white bakery box. "They're still warm," he added coaxingly.

As the aroma of chocolate wafted her way, Sango's mouth began to water, but she wasn't about to lead Miroku along for the sake of a few cookies—even Ginta's. "Why are you doing this?" she asked bluntly.

"I'd think that was obvious," he returned evenly.

Sango shook her head, letting her confusion show. "Does this have anything to do with what you put on my checklist earlier?"

Miroku grinned, saying, "Indeed, it does!"

She slid onto the opposite bench and placed the paper in question on the tabletop. "Look, I have no idea what you're even doing here. This is completely indecipherable!"

He picked up the sheet and scanned what he'd written. "You can't read my handwriting?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

"No!"

"That's a pity," he sighed, using the list to mark a place in his book. "Ah, well… nobody's perfect."

For some reason, his dismissive comment stung. "If it's perfection you're after, your penmanship is what needs work… not me," she declared archly.

"Truer words were never spoken," Miroku agreed easily.

Two hours later, Sango was so absorbed in her studies, she'd mostly forgotten her companion. The occasional riffle of pages was all the noise he made, and it didn't intrude upon her concentration. Sitting with her chin propped in her hand, she idly nibbled her fifth cookie while reading from a textbook that lay open on the table. Some part of her subconscious registered the fact that it'd been a while since Miroku turned a page, and she glanced up. He was gazing at her over the top of his book, and for once, those violet eyes weren't glazed by suggestive thoughts. Clear and calm, he regarded her with a lazy sort of confidence that was difficult to interpret. "What?" she asked.

"Just thinking," he answered, turning his attention back to his book. It was her turn to stare, and soon, he looked up, brows lifting inquiringly. "Yes?"

"What did you write on my list?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, his lips quirking into a mischievous smile.

"No," she quickly retorted. However, few minutes later, she found herself asking, "Is this what you had in mind?"

"No," he admitted.

"Oh," she frowned.

"This is much nicer," he smiled, then resumed reading.

Sango bit her lip, then her tongue, and then her cookie—anything to keep from asking more questions. This is so confusing. The pervert was being a gentleman; the wolf was in pursuit. The compliments were sweet, and the cookies were divine. He wasn't crowding her, yet he seemed so sure of his chances… even though he'd never so much as asked her out. The moment he does, I'll set him straight, she promised herself.

If he ever gets around to it, she wryly amended a minute later.

A heartbeat after that, her eyes widened. Oh! He can't possibly be that wily.

Sango shook her head, trying to dismiss the nagging suspicion that Miroku had circumvented what would have been an immediate refusal of his advances by simply… not asking. Verbally, echoed Sesshoumaru's voice in her head.

Caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance, Sango decided to give Miroku the benefit of the doubt. Just this once.

End Note: This oneshot was written for the Live Journal community mirsan(underscore)fics, Prompt #10—Lie. Mind you, I didn't finish this little scene until after the contest deadline, so I didn't actually enter… but there you go. It all started with the decision to work with the phrase 'lie in wait'. ::twinkle:: Posted on July 21, 2009. 2,303 words.