Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, Halo or any of the characters involved in either.

When Sesshoumaru had first agreed to this idea, it had been on a whim. Which just goes to show the dangers of following a whim, especially when it involved two creatures such as Miroku and Shippou. . .

After the initial shock of seeing his new alter-ego had worn off, Shippou talked him into trying it on again. For the purposes of working out some of the finer details, he had explained.

"I could do without the acne," Although it was just a light smattering, Sesshoumaru would have preferred to let his flawless complexion remain as such.

"But that's the best part!" Whined Shippou.

"I doubt it will take away from the over-all effect."

Shippou gave an irritated sigh. Did Sesshoumaru not appreciated a true work of art? Miroku interjected, "I still think you need to slouch a bit. Normal people don't always walk around with their backs so . . . ramrod straight."

"They do if they have a steel rod shoved up their butts," Grumbled Shippou. "I doubt he could slouch even if he wanted to."

"For that, you are going to remove the acne."

"Fine." Shippou huffed, "But I'll change the illusion to make it look like you slouch."

"I don't slouch."

"It's either that or I give you a huge Adam's Apple for that skinny neck."

"You'll do neither."

"Try and stop me."

Sesshoumaru cracked his knuckles, "You do realize I still have my youkai powers, even in this disguise?"

"If you don't like my work, go find someone else to provide you with a disguise. But you know you won't find anyone as good as me."

Not for the first time, Sesshoumaru wondered at what point he had lost control. And where did Shippou learn such arrogance? Whatever happened to the little kitsune that had been orphaned and taken in as a ward of the Western Lands? The little guy who used to hero-worship Sesshoumaru? Oh, yeah. Maybe that answers the arrogance question.

He let his shoulders drop a bit, watching his reflection. The image in the mirror looked more relaxed and less militant. He could live with that. It would take concentration to remember not to stand with perfect posture, but he could manage it. "You do not need to change the illusion's posture. Your work would undoubtedly make me look as if I should be swinging about in a belfry."

"It would not. We're going for the unnoticeable, not the grotesque." Shippou replied, offended.

"Well, now that's settled, perhaps we should take your new look out for a test run." Miroku suggested, getting impatient over the nit-picking.

"Why should I need a test run?" Sesshoumaru felt the feeling of foreboding return. What was there to test? He had a mirror. He could see what he looked like. No one should recognize him.

"You don't expect to just go out there in the world, acting as you always do?"

Actually, that was exactly what he had planned to do. And why not? There was nothing wrong with how he acted, especially for the purposes of this experiment. All he had to do was get a job and last out a month, at the least. No one said anything about changing his behavior.

"What is wrong with how I act?" His voice became threatening, a tone to which Miroku paid no heed.

"Well, for starters, you have a tendency to demand of others when most people ask. You use your position and power to get what you want. In this form," Miroku gestured toward the daiyoukai, "You're a nobody. Nobodies have to rely on personality and charm to get what they want. Those are two things that you have neglected to develop."

Ridiculous, he had a great personality and plenty of charm. "And who here is qualified to teach me such things?"

"Me, of course." Miroku beamed.

Sesshoumaru's tone turned skeptical, "Your form of charm includes grabbing women's asses and getting slapped for it. Do you suggest I do that?"

Miroku shrugged, "It's a good icebreaker."

"It's a lawsuit waiting to happen," Shippou added.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the end, Idiot 1 and Idiot 2 managed to convince him to go to the local mall and wander around as a regular, unnoticeable person. The experience was strange at first. The mall was crowded, being the most popular shopping area in the small city. To Sesshoumaru it was smelly and noisy, as well. Then again, most places were, as far as he was concerned. This was why he rarely did any of his own shopping.

When in his normal form, Sesshoumaru was accustomed to people giving him a wide berth, recognizing his importance and keeping out of his personal space. Now, no one noticed him, nor did they seem all too concerned if they got in his way, breached his personal space, or even bumped into him in the crowded walkway. It was both a relief and an irritation at the same time.

"You should try smiling a bit, Sesshoumaru," Idiot 1, also known as Miroku, suggested. "It's not like doing so will ruin your image."

Sesshoumaru cast an ineffectual glare at Miroku, but decided to test out his new persona's smile. He caught the eye of a marginally attractive, in his opinion, woman walking in the opposite direction. He smiled at her as she passed by. The woman gave him an "as-if" look and quickly altered her course to move herself away from the trio.

Sesshoumaru was surprised at the reaction. Normally, his smile could make women drool. Well, the illusion did its job. Now he could say that he was impressed with Idiot 2's work. As he mused over this development, he was distracted when a random shopper bumped into him.

"Excuse me. Sorry about that."

"Watch where you are going," Sesshoumaru snapped back.

"Jeez. I said I was sorry," The shopper stated. As he walked away, he mumbled "jackass."

Sesshoumaru stopped, unsure of how to react. That human had called him a jackass within his hearing range. No one did that that didn't live to regret it. Okay, maybe his father or Inuyasha. But no humans ever did.

He was about to follow the foolish human and teach him a little something about showing proper respect to his superiors, but Shippou's restraining hand stopped him. "Woah there, Killer. He apologized. Let it go."

"He called me a jackass."

"We've called you worse when you're not around," Miroku noted.

"You have the sense of preservation to avoid such comments around me."

"Sesshoumaru, you're going to have to learn to be nicer to people. Seem more friendly. Otherwise you won't make it past the interview."

"Interview?" People had to interview for jobs like these?

"Yes interview. What? Did you think you would just fill out an application and you would automatically work there?"

Sesshoumaru gave him a look as if to say, "Yes."

Miroku sighed, "How have you lived as long as you have and be clueless to such things?"

"I have had other concerns."

"What concerns? As long as I have known you, you lived at the office and in your study. Don't tell me you have spent all of your existence in much the same way."

"Nearly," Shippou answered for him. "He used to get out more, but that was usually to kill things."

"How very sad," Miroku replied. "Well, maybe all of this will change things."

"By all means, Miroku, hold your breath in hope," Sesshoumaru remarked as the other two led him into a clothing store. Another objective of this excursion was to obtain new clothes to fit the daiyoukai's new persona.

Something that Sesshoumaru was beginning to hate about his new appearance was that clothes did not seem to fit properly. They were either too baggy, making his skinny figure look even smaller, or too short. They did nothing to accentuate his better features, not that this new body had many to boast. Miroku and Shippou refused to let him wear tailor-made clothing because it didn't fit with the image of the twenty-something student worker that they were trying to create. They put him in a dressing room and shoved articles of clothing over the door for him to try on. All the while, Miroku would test him on interview questions.

"Now, Sesshoumaru, tell me a little about yourself," Miroku asked, mimicking a professional tone that an interviewer might use.

"I'm the eldest son and heir of the current ruler of the Western Lands of Japan. I am skilled in the art of torture and killing, but I do not get to practice so much these days because I have been forced to pretend to be a human, thanks to two of my idiot associates."

"Try to be serious," Miroku replied.

"We're not forcing you to do anything," Shippou added. "Admit it, you wouldn't put up with this for one second if some little part of you didn't want to do this. We're just giving you the tools to survive."

"Exactly," Miroku agreed.

"I can survive well enough without your so-called help."

"That's what you think. So, Sesshoumaru," Miroku returned to the official voice, "Why do you want to work at MegaMart?"

"I'm testing to see how little brain function I need before I become a vegetable." Was the derisive reply.

"You see. There you go with the negative. You need a more positive answer, like, 'I'm new to this country and I want to be in an environment that opens me up to American life,' or, 'I want to work in a fast-paced environment that requires me to develop my people skills.'"

Sesshoumaru came out of the dressing room, wearing the latest ensemble the duo had picked out, and gave Miroku a blank look, "That is the most idiotic answer I have ever heard."

"That's what interviewers want to hear. Believe me, I know. I used similar answers to get my job at Takashi Enterprises." He regarded Sesshoumaru's clothes, "Everything looks too big on you."

Sesshoumaru retreated into the dressing room, "It's the illusion. I am not physically smaller, so I must wear clothes of my normal size. I could wear smaller clothes, but then I would be uncomfortable. I'm sure you were hired for your credentials instead of your charming personality, alone."

"True, but that won't help you. What are you going to say when asked about your experience? That you're the heir and vice-president to a multi-billion dollar corporation and list a bunch of achievements under said position? That will lead back to the question of why you want to work there."

"And I'll refer to my previous answer," Sesshoumaru stepped out of the fitting room again.

"Ugh, Shippou, can you do something to bulk up his look a little, or make the clothes look like they fit?"

"I like it as it is. The poorly-fitting clothes give him that fashion-challenged look. Perfect for his image," Shippou was getting rather irritated with everyone wanting to change his work. "Give him a belt so it doesn't look like his pants will fall down and you're set."

Miroku sighed, "Fine." As he watched Sesshoumaru go back into the fitting room, he added, "I suppose I can give you a couple of stories from when I used to work these kinds of jobs. It will give you some credibility as far as your ability to do the job and work with others."

"I can do the job and I do work with others."

"Not equals. They are all your employees who fear upsetting you and getting fired. Tell me, Sesshoumaru," he returned to the official voice, "one of your co-workers does something that you feel is offensive or inappropriate toward you. How do you handle it?"

"I decapitate him, rip out his entrails, and leave his remains to ripen for the vultures."

"If I didn't know you better, I would say that was an attempt at a joke," Miroku dead-panned.

"That was a joke," Shippou stated, "Normally he would use his poison. It wouldn't leave anything for the vultures."

Miroku sighed again, stepping away from the dressing area. He looked around the store, scanning the racks of clothing as he thought about the situation. Normally an optimist, he was beginning to think that this little plan was doomed to failure. His sight landed on a random woman here and there, watching their butts as they walked by. Nothing truly breath-taking, like Sango's firm backside.

As his eyes followed one woman, something else caught his interest. Standing on the edge of one of the women's clothing sections was a young woman who looked like Kagome. She was holding up a couple of blouses, showing them to an older woman sitting in a wheelchair. As he looked closer, he decided it was Kagome. Judging by the looks of the older woman, he guessed that she was a relative, probably her mother.

Miroku walked back to the dressing area, "Sesshoumaru, get dressed. We're finished here."

"We are?" Shippou asked.

Sesshoumaru stepped out of the dressing room, wearing his original clothes. "What is going on?" He asked.

"Follow me," Miroku answered as he walked away, heading for the women's clothing.

"Miroku, if you think I'm going to wear women's clothing . . ." Sesshoumaru began to state in a threatening tone. Really, there was such a thing as too much.

But Miroku was not paying attention, his focus being on other things. "Miss Kagome?" He asked as he approached the two women he saw moments before.

The young woman looked up at the sound of her name, not expecting to run into anyone she knew. Least of all did she expect to see three strange men walking her way. Two of them were kind of cute and flashed her friendly smiles, but she could not place either faces. The third, the tall, lanky one did not look so friendly. He had a kind of sour look on his face that made her want to redirect her attention to the man who was speaking to her.

"It is you, Miss Kagome. What a pleasure running into you," Miroku flashed another smile.

Kagome hesitated, not able to place a name to the face, "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

"Of course you do. You sold me a TV a couple of days ago," Noting the still blank look on her face, he further elaborated. "I was with a friend – tall, white hair. He chased away another customer."

Recognition dawned and she smiled, "Oh, that's right. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you right away. I see so many faces every day, it all becomes a blur. Still, it's difficult to forget a six-foot, something albino."

Miroku laughed at her description of Sesshoumaru, ignoring said daiyoukai's glare that he could feel boring into the back of his head. "He does make an impression on people. I'm sorry about how he acted that day."

"Oh, it didn't bother me at all. I would have loved to do the same thing, but I probably would have gotten fired for such comments."

"Perhaps," Miroku nodded.

"Oh, excuse me. This is my mother, Sayuri Higurashi. Mom, this is . . ."

"Miroku Houshi," Miroku supplied, "And this is my friend Shippou Kitsune and . . . my cousin . . . Ichirou Houshi."

"Nice to meet you," Kagome and her mother stated and nodded to the other men in turn.

Shippou returned the warm greeting while "Ichirou" offered a curt nod.

"So, how are you enjoying your TV?" Kagome asked, feeling a little awkward trying to make small talk with the three men.

"Oh, it's great, though I don't get to enjoy it as much as I'd like to. Ichirou, here, has been staying with me and I can't get him away from it. He loves how Master Chief is almost life-size." He felt the glare intensify. Yep, he was going to pay for that later.

"So you're staying around here?" Kagome asked.

"Yes. I work for Takashi Enterprises. The company is rebuilding a manufacturing plant here."

"Oh, I heard about that. They say it will take months to finish, but it's going to open up hundreds of jobs for this area," Kagome's mother stated as her daughter nodded in agreement.

"Yes and I wouldn't mind spending my free time getting to know the area. Kagome, do you think the lovely Sango would like to show me around? I have been meaning to return to the store to try to meet up with her."

Kagome smiled, remembering Miroku's pick-up line, "That I couldn't say. She seemed to like you and it's a plus that you are going to be in town for some time."

"Maybe I will have to stop by the store then. Maybe we could double. Me and Sango, you and Sesshoumaru."

"Sesshoumaru?" Kagome asked.

"Yes, the . . . uh, albino," Miroku answered.

Kagome laughed nervously, "I'm sure he's more than capable of finding his own dates."

"Oh, he doesn't get out as much as he should," Miroku began. Then he felt Sesshoumaru step closer and discretely dig his claws into the back of his arm. They may look like dull, human fingernails, but under the illusion, they were still sharp . . . and poisonous. A little voice of wisdom told Miroku that it was time to go, "Well, maybe that's something we can work out later."

"Um . . . sure," Kagome seemed a little confused at the abrupt change, but brushed it off as the trio walked away. She got a strange feeling from Shippou and the other one . . . Ichirou. She also had the weirdest feeling that she had met him before. Oh, well. It would come to her later.

"They seemed nice," Kagome's mother stated.

"Yeah, I guess," she answered as they continued looking through the racks of clothing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The three of them walked toward the cash registers to check out. Sesshoumaru was thinking over the encounter with the salesgirl. He was surprised to find her less than thrilled over the idea of going out with Sesshoumaru Takashi. Really it's not like Miroku had suggested she go out with his new persona. Speaking of which . . .

"Ichirou?" Sesshoumaru questioned as they gathered their purchases and exited the store.

"I know. It was the best I could come up with at the moment," Miroku explained, disappointed in his own lack of inspiration.

"And what is wrong with Sesshoumaru?"

"Were you planning on using the name Sesshoumaru Takashi for your disguise? Oh, that wouldn't cause any problems."

"Hn."

"Hey, be thankful. I almost named you Jaken."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kagome walked through the ranch-style house, carrying several dishes into the kitchen and deposited them in the sink. Remembering that she had yet to pick up the mail, she slipped on a pair of shoes and walked outside to the mailbox. She looked across the front lawn. It was starting to look a little unkempt. Really, it hadn't been that long since it was last mowed, but in this area, you couldn't turn your back on the lawn for one moment before it began to look like a jungle. It had been her plan to mow the lawn today, on one of her few, precious days off. But then, her mother wanted to go shopping.

No decision there. Aside from numerous doctor's appointments, her mother rarely got out of the house. Soon, she would be going into the hospital for surgery and would not be able to go out and about for at least a month afterward. Mind as well let her mother get out as much as she can now. Her father was not much for shopping, so he would have been of little use. So, it was left up to Kagome to chauffeur her mother from store to store.

Not that she minded. She enjoyed shopping with her mother. It brought a little sense of normalcy to an otherwise tense situation. Besides, she deserved to have a real day off once in a while, didn't she? Still, there was so much to be done around the house, and it seemed like there was more everyday.

She reached the mailbox and retrieved the letters. As she walked back up the driveway, she flipped through the letter, stopping when a particular address caught her eye. She opened the envelope, read the letter, and smiled. Here was something for her to look forward to.

Author's Note: So there you have another installment. Not a lot of plot, but I thought it was funny and good preparation for Sesshoumaru. I also thought it would be funny to think of what kind of answers he might really want to give for some interview questions. Also, you got another glimpse at Kagome, and a hint of her story. I debated whether or not to include their meeting, and was not thrilled with how it turned out. But I think it helped with the plot.

Also, no hating over the Master Chief comment. It wasn't necessarily meant to poke fun at Sesshoumaru being a geek because he's a gamer, but more of a reference to the joys of playing video games on a big-screen TV . . . not that I would know, personally, since I don't have a big-screen TV. And it occurred to me that Sesshoumaru would be irritated over Miroku's suggestion that he would waste his time playing video games.

In the next chapter, Sesshoumaru begins work. While I have several wonderful ideas for his torture, I am open to any ideas that you, my wonderful readers, may want to see happen. I appreciate all of your reviews.

~CW