Author's Note: Back by popular demand. Wow, folks, thanks for your many reviews. I really didn't expect such a great response.**sniffles, wipes away a happy tear** This was just an idea that seemed fun and original and I threw it out there to gauge what people thought of it. And it seems everyone wants more. It makes me wish I came up with this idea long ago, and that I had a more sure idea of where I was going with it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, or any of its characters. Nor do I own characters from Family Matters or Saved By the Bell.

Sango watched the two men walk away, then looked down at the business card that had been pressed into her hand. "Well, that was a new pick-up line. I'll give him points for originality. Think I should give him a call?"

Kagome, who had been busy wrestling a security device onto a high-dollar item, all the while mentally cursing people who felt the need to steal, looked up and inspected the card in Sango's hand. "I think if you want a long-distance relationship, you should try to keep it limited to within the continental US."

Sango looked at the card again, then flipped it over to inspect the back. It was blank. "What the? Why would he give me a card with no local number? What am I supposed to do, email him? Is he even going to stay in the country very long, or is he just visiting? What was he thinking?"

"Maybe he was so swept away by your beauty that he just couldn't think straight." Kagome smiled at her co-worker.

"No need to be mean." Sango replied in mock hurt.

"Who was being mean? He was just an idiot? Is that a better explanation?"

Sango laughed. "Maybe, but he was a cute idiot."

"Maybe he'll come back one day."

"Yeah, and he can try to weasel a number from me, and I can decide whether I want to give him a real number, or not. That's how it should be, anyways." Both women nodded in agreement.

"You know," Sango continued with a sly look, "His friend was pretty hot, too."

"More than hot, especially when he smiled." Kagome answered as if she were talking about the weather.

"Well, don't sound so excited. You didn't even act as if you noticed him until he spoke."

"What was there to notice? His death glares at everyone in his immediate vicinity?"

"Yeah, but he seemed to like you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"He smiled at you."

"He smiled at what I said. There's nothing to that."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

Kagome sighed, "Sango, guys like that date super-models, actresses . . . women like that. Not Plain Janes who live the unglamorous life of working in a MegaMart."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. . ." Sango began to rebut. A voice over the radio interrupted.

"Clean up in baby food."

Sango talked into her radio. "I'm nearby. What spilled?"

The voice crackled back, "Mashed peas. A couple of broken jars."

She groaned as she walked away, "Peas. Why is it always peas? Why can't it ever be something that might smell good, like mashed bananas?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Miroku gave another dejected sigh as he drove toward the apartment complex.

"Stop that." Sesshoumaru snapped. He was in no mood to deal with Miroku's antics.

"I wish you would have let me go back." He lamented.

"The store isn't going anywhere. Likely, neither is that girl. You can harass her some other time. Preferably when I'm not with you." He shifted uncomfortably. "Why didn't you think ahead to how big a box the TV would come in?"

It wasn't so much the width or length of the box that was the problem. It was the height. Just several inches too tall to sit on the backseat of their rented car. They might have been able to fit it in if they took the TV out of the box, but Miroku refused, not wanting his new purchase to get damaged on the way home. By a minor miracle, they were able to wedge it into the the backseat and set it slant-wise, so the bottom of the box was pressed right up against the backs of the front seats. Sesshoumaru's seat had to be moved forward in order to get the box to fit even in this manner. Of course, that also left Sesshoumaru's tall frame without much leg room and he now sat with his knees pressed against the dashboard. Briefly, he considered maiming Miroku, just a little bit.

"Sorry. We should be there soon."

"Hn." He had no doubt removing the object of his loathing from the vehicle would prove to be just as much of an ordeal. It took three people to get the stupid thing in there and it was probably stuck for good, as these things seem to always turn out. He'd probably have to rip the roof off the car to get it out. That would be an interesting one to explain: No really, we passed under a very low bridge. Who would have thought there wouldn't be at least five feet of clearance? Or he could take the usual intimidation approach: I said I wanted a convertible.

Miroku let out another sigh, "Think she would go out on a date with me?"

"Not if she has any sense."

"Now that's not very nice. And here I was going to try to get that other girl, Kagome, to go out with you."

Sesshoumaru shifted again, attempting to get a least one measly millimeter of space between his knees and the dashboard. Why did he even let Miroku get him into this situation? "How did that idea worm its way into your brain?"

"Well, I admit she looked a bit plain in her work clothes. But I bet when she puts on some make-up, does something with her hair, puts on something sexy . . ."

"Then you ask her out."

"My heart belongs to Sango."

"Your heart belongs to the most attractive ass that comes into sight."

"And that would be Sango."

"You should consider raising your standards to include other virtues."

"This coming from the ma – er – youkai who thinks all women are superficial, gold-digging twits? What other virtues should I consider?"

"Someone of better social standing. Certainly you have met better looking women."

"Now who's being superficial?"

Sesshoumaru shifted again. When would he be able to get out of this car?

"You seemed to like her."

"Who?"

"Kagome." Oh, back to that one.

"She didn't drool over me. That makes her tolerable."

"She's smart, too. She knows her stuff."

"That doesn't mean she's smart. Anyone can memorize information about TVs."

"She handles customers well."

"There's nothing impressive about that."

"Yes, there is. It takes a lot of control and patience to be polite to people when they are being rude."

Sesshoumaru turned to regard his friend. Who did Miroku think he was lecturing about patience and control? "I have no need to be polite to people."

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't, but for us mere mortals . . . haven't you ever heard the saying 'you can catch more flies with honey?'"

"I have no need of flies, either."

"No need to act dense. Oh, never mind. Heaven forbid I try to get you to stop looking down your nose at anything."

"She's just a salesgirl, doing a job that a well-trained monkey could do."

"You couldn't do it."

"Of course I could. But I won't."

"Why not?"

"It would not do for one of my position to be seen doing such a menial job."

"So wear a disguise."

Sesshoumaru grew suspicious, "Why would I wish to do anything of the sort?"

"To prove me wrong. I don't think you could last a month."

"And I care about what you think I can and cannot do?"

Miroku exhaled an exasperated sigh, "Come on, Sesshoumaru. It's a great idea. You don't say much about it, but I know you're getting sick of your lifestyle. This is a great chance to get away from it for a while and get a new view on how other people live."

"I have too much work to do and I don't care about what other people do."

Miroku waved away Sesshoumaru's answer as he turned into the entrance to the apartment complex. "You have enough employees here that can handle the workload. You just don't trust them to do it. Besides, you would still be here if there were any emergencies. I think you're afraid I'm right."

"I am not afraid of anything," Sesshoumaru all but growled.

"Sure, sure." Miroku replied in a placating tone.

Sesshoumaru was about to snarl another comment, but he stopped as the full force of the idea hit him. Maybe the lecher had a point. Maybe this is what he needed to get that new perspective. "Very well."

"What?" Miroku asked as he pulled into a parking space.

"I'll disguise myself and get a job at that store. And I will last more than a month." Sesshoumaru answered as he opened the door and unfolded his tall frame from the cramped car. He began to walk toward his condo as he planned the details for this endeavor. First and foremost would be to get a disguise. He would call Shippou for that, of course.

"This will be great!" Miroku exclaimed, thrilled that he was getting Sesshoumaru to do something out of the ordinary. "Hey, where are you going? What about the TV?"

"You can get that monstrosity out of the car by yourself."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shippou appeared at his door a couple of days later with a confused, half-awake, bed-bedraggled Miroku in tow. He was grinning like . . . well, not so much like the cat that swallowed the canary, but more like the cat that broke into the pet store and enjoyed the buffet in the parakeet cage. A sense of foreboding came over Sesshoumaru and settled somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Shippou greeted as he pushed past Sesshoumaru.

"It's too early to be morning." Miroku yawned as he pulled his robe closed and began a kind of zombie shuffle toward the kitchen. "What's going on that could wait until . . . five hours after whatever time it is now?"

"Sorry, Miroku, but I thought you would want to see this."

"The only thing I want to see right now is a cup of coffee. You have coffee, don't you, Sesshoumaru?"

"There's a fresh pot." Sesshoumaru answered as he shut the door. He wasn't too thrilled about the early visit either, but he had already been awake, at least.

"I've been working on your glamor for the past two days. I worked hard to make sure it followed what you wanted, and added a couple of details that I thought would make it just perfect." If possible, Shippou's grin got bigger as he held out a silver bracelet.

"Miroku's question stands. Why couldn't this wait?"

"Well, I thought you wanted it as soon as possible. Besides, I couldn't wait to see how it turned out."

Sesshoumaru took the bracelet and inspected it. The feeling of foreboding became the icy-cold fingers of Dread skating down his spine. This was turning out to be a bad idea. Morbid curiosity was the only thing that compelled him to unhook the clasp and put the piece of jewelry around his wrist.

It was roughly at that moment that Miroku re-entered the living room, "Stupid youkai and their inhuman energy. Why have decaf coffee. Caffeine doesn't affect them anyways. Maybe if I really believe there is caffeine . . ." He looked up from glaring at his coffee mug, dropped it, and burst out laughing.

Sesshoumaru regarded the spilled coffee and the stain it had made on his carpet. He glared at Miroku, "You're going to clean that up." Did his voice sound a little strange?

Instead of the expected response, he was surprised to see Miroku point at him and break into more hysterical laughter as he fell to his knees and leaned against the kitchen door frame for support. He heard Shippou snickering, too. When he turned his most intimidating glare toward Shippou, the kitsune also broke into hysterics. What was going on?

Sesshoumaru spun around and walked to his bedroom, his goal being the full-length mirror in the master bathroom. He was shocked to see the total stranger staring back at him. Okay, he didn't expect to look exactly like himself – that was the whole point of the disguise – but still . . .

The person staring back at him was not wholly unattractive. He looked like someone that could clean up well, but was not likely turn heads otherwise. The individual features of the face were decent-looking, but something just seemed to be off when they were all put together. Maybe it was that the chin was a little weak, or the nose seemed a little too big for the face. The eyes were a nice shape but the color was a dull brown. The ears were fine but stuck out a bit. Shippou had even gone so far as to scatter a little adult acne across the forehead. To top it off was a mop of dark, short hair, parted down the middle with a cowlick sticking up on the side.

Without thinking, Sesshoumaru lifted his hand to attempt to smooth the cowlick down. The sensation of running his hand over the illusionary hair was unnerving. He was accustomed to this feeling from the previous times he had used such spells. Still, it was strange to run his fingers through the silvery locks that he could not see, even if he could feel them. The cowlick refused to be tamed and Sesshoumaru glared at the image in the mirror. Now he saw what the others were laughing at. The reflected glare was anything but intimidating. People might have found a hissing kitten more threatening.

Giving up on that one task, he looked at the rest of his image to assess the kitsune's work. He was just as tall as he ever was, but the muscle mass was not the same. He had never been particularly bulky in that area, but his muscles had been well-defined. Now, in place of the broad shoulders, chiseled abs and strong arms, there was a thin, flat torso, bony shoulders and skinny arms. Although his pajama bottoms prevented him from seeing his legs, he imagined they were just as skinny as his arms. He resisted the urge pull out the waistband of his pajama bottoms and see just how far Shippou's vengeance may have reached, for this must be what it was.

This was payback for centuries of abuse, or something like that. Why else would the kitsune be so happy to turn him into this . . . what some may call a 98-pound weakling? Yes, that is what he looked like. He looked like the kind of person that might have gotten sand kicked in his face in the playground, or from whom bullies stole lunch money. If someone like this had the right personality or brains, he would be able to hang with the cool crowd, doing either their homework or providing entertainment.

He stared back at the reflected face, raising his hand to the mirror, attempting to touch the face on the other side. He leaned in closer, trying to find his own face hidden beneath the illusion. But all he could see was the vague shadow of his true self. In the reflection, he saw Shippou and Miroku appear in the doorway behind him. Apparently, they had gotten over their laugh-fest at his expense.

"I hope you are enjoying yourselves." He stated in his now higher-pitched voice that he had no doubt might crack occasionally as if he were still trying to get through puberty.

"No need to be like that, Sesshoumaru. It's really a remarkable job. Shippou, you are the master of illusion." Miroku stated.

"Why thank you. I am quite proud of this piece of work, myself." Shippou gave a little bow.

"What was your inspiration?"

"Oh, I pulled a little from here and there. But I think Screech, and maybe Steve Urkel were the main two."

Miroku laughed a little at that. Sesshoumaru stepped away from the mirror and turned to face them. "I'm not doing this."

"Oh, come on, Sesshoumaru. Why not?"

"This is foolish."

"So what if it is? You don't look anything like yourself, so who would care if you do make a fool of yourself? It could be very liberating, if you think about it."

"Hn." Sesshoumaru had to admit that Miroku did a have point. Damn him.

"But you should slouch a bit. You're too tall." Shippou pointed out.

"I don't slouch."

"Yes, and you need different clothes. Plain ones that any normal person would wear. Not all of you designer stuff." Miroku added.

"Oh, yeah. We could really go into the geek look, then. Get him some high-waters to pull up to his arm-pits and some suspenders!" Shippou was truly evil at times.

Having had enough of his new persona for the time being, Sesshoumaru removed the bracelet binding the illusion and inspected it again.

"I think the medical alert bracelet stating that I am allergic to Tylenol should suffice."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Author's Note 2: Well, that whole discussion between Miroku and Sesshoumaru was very difficult to steer toward the idea of Sesshoumaru getting a job at the store.

I hope this chapter answered some questions about what I meant about Sesshoumaru posing as a geek. It's more his appearance that I was thinking about and not so much how he behaves (because when I first got this idea I was thinking about how different people may act when they are in different settings.) Then again, the two are closely tied when it comes to Sesshoumaru's personality. In his normal form, he exudes power and dominance, and he acts accordingly. In his new persona, his appearance is not going to have the same effect on people and he will have to learn to adjust. I imagine this resulting in some social awkwardness on his part. And truly, would we like Sesshoumaru's attitude so much if it didn't come in such a pretty package? I don't know if that made any sense. Maybe it will seem more clear as the story develops.

As far as Kagome's character . . . I haven't gotten all of those details sorted out yet. If I make her a miko, that could open up the story to a whole new set of possibilities that I don't know if I am prepared to handle. It all depends on what ideas I get.

I may not post again for a while until I have everything worked out better. Hope you all enjoyed it.

~CW