Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, Tag, Bakugan or Darwin Awards.

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A ringing phone awakened Sesshoumaru. Although still recovering from the attack on his olfactory senses, his headache had not disappeared completely, and he did not want to be disturbed. What time was it anyways? The clock read 3 A.M.

Cursing to himself, he reached for the phone, "Someone had better be dead."

"Now is that any kind of greeting for your father?" The deep tones of his father's voice came through the phone.

Sesshoumaru sighed, "Did you need something, Father?"

"Just checking up on my eldest son."

Checking up? He was a 500-year-old youkai who had fought countless battles, both on the battlefield and in boardrooms. And his father was checking up on him? The old one was up to something.

"Everything is fine," He answered warily.

"That is good, Son," He sounded like he wanted to say something, but was trying to decide on the phrasing.

"What is it, Father?"

"Two things, actually. One, I have been in contact with a matchmaker."

Sesshoumaru repressed a growl. "Father, I had no idea you were looking for a new mate. You and Izayoi seemed so happy. She is well, correct?" Perhaps playing dumb would get him out of this.

"You know very well I am talking about a mate for you. The matchmaker already has several in mind." So much for the dumb act. Oh the best laid plans of mice and inuyoukai.

"We have been over this, Father. I have no need of a mate, nor do I want one. Should my mind change, I will do my own choosing."

"If left to your own devices, you'll never be mated or have an heir. I would like to leave this world having known my grandpups."

"Are you planning on leaving this world soon, Father?" The old dog had centuries ahead of him. Really, his kind could live for millennia as long as they did not suffer any fatal injuries – and there were not many fatal injuries for powerful youkai, such as Touga and Sesshoumaru.

He sighed, "No, but my point remains."

"For all you know, Inuyasha has fathered several pups. Why not pester him about finding a mate?"

"Because you are my eldest son and heir. Besides, Inuyasha is not ready for such commitments."

It was times like these that Sesshoumaru really hated Inuyasha. The hanyou had all the luck being born second and not having to bear all of this pressure to uphold the family legacy. "He is as old as I was when you started up with this mating nonsense for me . . . older."

"Yes, but you were more mature at that age than he is. Now stop being so difficult. You know your mother and I had a matchmaker."

"Yes. Look how that turned out. How is Mother?"

"Still a bitter old bitch. Not the best example, I suppose, but that does not mean things will turn out the same for you."

"I know they won't because I have no intention of going through with it."

"Damn it, Sesshoumaru, I'm being serious now." Touga barked through the phone, "You need to provide an heir and show that you have a stable family life."

"Like you?"

A growl was his answer.

"Father, you will not persist in this. What reason do I have for following your wishes?"

"I am your alpha."

"I could be my own alpha."

"You would give up your birthright? Or are you challenging me?"

Sesshoumaru paused. This is why he hated talking to his father when not fully awake. No, he would not give up his birthright. He had fought and worked beside his father to secure it and he was not going to throw it away so it could land in Inuyasha's incompetent hands. But he did not wish to challenge his father, either. Why that was, he could not be sure. Maybe there was some modicum of respect that he held for the old dog. Maybe Miroku was right and he was a masochist. Or maybe it was because if he did challenge his father and won, he would have forced the issue of mating and securing his legacy on himself. There was no way out of it, except to try to keep the old dog distracted with other things. The only problem was that, right now, he couldn't think of any distractions.

"No, I am not challenging you and Inuyasha is too incompetent to be your heir," His voice was resigned.

His father laughed, "That would be the second thing I wanted to talk to you about. I'm thinking about sending Inuyasha your way to let him watch how you run things."

Sesshoumaru felt his headache coming back, "And he can't shadow you because . . ."

"Well, I taught you everything you know about business." Sure. "So you training Inuyasha should be just as good. Besides it would be good for you two to start working together now, before I officially retire."

There it was. The attempt to get the brothers to bond. His father had been working on this ever since Inuyasha was born. One would think that after 300 years, he would give up. But it was not in his nature to admit defeat.

Sesshoumaru didn't like this idea one bit and it wasn't solely because spending more than five minutes with Inuyasha made him want to pound the hanyou's face into a brick wall. It would make his experiment a little difficult. What would the hanyou think if he found out Sesshoumaru was moonlighting at a retail store. And if he saw Sesshoumaru as Ichirou . . . he'd never hear the end of it.

"That would not be a good idea, Father."

"Nonsense. Of course it's a good idea. Inuyasha may arrive in a couple of weeks. I'll contact you later with more details about his trip . . . and about the matchmaker." He hung up before Sesshoumaru could start arguing against the matchmaker again.

Sesshoumaru dropped the phone and buried his face in his pillow. A couple of weeks. Perhaps he could work out a plan before then. But not now. His headache was back full force and it hurt to think. He glanced at the clock, deciding how many more hours of sleep he would be able to get in. He was not scheduled at the store today, but he was planning on making an appearance at his real job, just to let his employees know that he was still around. As he closed his eyes, he hoped that the next time he woke up, his headache would be gone and the conversation with his father would be just a Tag-induced nightmare.

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Her house was haunted and the ghosts were conspiring against her. That was her only explanation for why things always turned out to be so difficult when she tried to do any work.

First, it was the stupid lawnmower when she was mowing the front lawn. It had worked perfectly fine until she was almost done. She had, what, 15 square feet left? Then the lawn mower decided to die on her. There was no explanation for it. Gas, check. Oil, good. Nothing wrapped around the blade. Yet, the stupid thing wouldn't start and she nearly dislocated her shoulder while yanking on the pull string. Stupid machines. Wussy lawnmowers. When it was clear it would not work, she left it alone for the rest of the day out of fear that she would decide to attack it with a sledgehammer. Of course the next day, it started up without any problem and she was able to finish off the last, measly bit of yard.

Then today, as part of her renovation plans, Kagome decided to tackle the task of taking down a portion of chain-link fencing that was in the process of falling down on its own. Sounded easy enough. But, as usual, the Fates were against her. She thought she would be able to take down the chain-link parts by removing the brackets that held it to the posts. It would have been easy enough had she been able to find her socket wrench set.

So on to Plan B – the much more destructive, yet therapeutic, method of cutting the brackets. So she went in search of her hacksaw. She hadn't needed it in months. Not since she used it to cut some aluminum pipes that would serve as a quick, sturdy railing to help her mother walk up the back steps of her house. She knew there was no reason for the saw to be anywhere else except in the toolbox where she had left it. But it wasn't there and she began a search throughout the house.

After looking in several of the same places more than once, hoping she had overlooked it the first time, she called out, "Dad, have you seen my hacksaw?"

A tall man of about 65 came out of a room. "Did you call me?" At least he had heard her call him.

The old man was practically deaf in one ear and didn't have great hearing in the other and he didn't have a hearing aid. It was a bone of contention between father and daughter that he wouldn't get one. He claimed that his health insurance company was putting him through a lot of red tape over it. She felt that he wasn't trying hard enough or that, deep down, he was resisting the idea that he needed one at all. And she could understand that it probably hurt his pride, or made him feel old to need such a device.

Nevertheless she hated talking to him because she either had to repeat herself three times before he heard her, or she had to yell during an entire conversation. Then he would complain that she didn't need to yell. Truly, she would have enjoyed being able to talk to him in a normal tone of voice. That way, if she did yell at him, it was because she was angry or irritated, and he had something to do with it. Like now.

"Have you seen my hacksaw?"

"I've seen a hacksaw," He hedged. "It's in my room. I was using it to saw through the hinges on the closet door."

A simple "yes" or "no" would have sufficed. And she didn't even want to begin to know why he needed a hacksaw for his closet door or why a screw driver couldn't do the job. The man had a horrible tendency to ramble, too.

He disappeared into his room and returned with the saw. Kagome took it and inspected the tool. She had the slightest suspicion that it was hers. Really, who else would have taken it? Her mom wasn't much of the handy-person type, especially these days. Buyo, her cat would be the only other being in the house and he didn't have any opposable thumbs. If it wasn't her dad, then that would mean the house really was haunted and the ghosts were screwing with her. As if she didn't have enough problems.

"Are you sure this isn't mine?" She narrowed her eyes at her father.

"That is my saw. It's been in my room for months."

"Months?" It had been months since she used it last.

"Yes," He answered confidently before walking back into his room, hoping to escape his daughter's wrath.

Kagome stared at the closed door. Sure, he could believe that it was his, especially if months had gone by. But Kagome didn't trust his memory any farther than she could throw the senile old man. She was only 5-foot, 4-inches, and highly doubted that she would be able to throw her 6-foot, 200-pound-plus father very far. Besides that, she knew he had made off with her work gloves and other tools several times.

She had no problem with him using the tools. It was the fact that he never put them back where he found them. Usually he couldn't remember where they went, despite Kagome's work to keep everything organized. So, the tools often ended up in his room, where he was sure to find them when he needed them.

Buyo came into her peripheral vision as he walked down the hall, "He lies, Buyo." Kagome heard her mother in the study down the hall, laughing at the comment. Ignoring it, she continued talking to the cat, "The next time you see him near my tools, attack."

With that, she went back outside. Yeah, a whole lot of frustration was going to get worked out, especially when it came to taking down the fence posts. As she stepped into the hot, summer day, she made a mental note to search her father's room. If she found her wrenches in there . . . he would be in a lot of trouble. She just couldn't think of a decent punishment right now. Maybe taking away his computer.

When did it come to this? At times, she felt more like the parent than the child.

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Sesshoumaru was pleased to see that everything was running smoothly with construction and hiring procedures. Sure it had only been a few days since he had been at work, but a lot can go wrong in that short amount of time. Of course, he knew Miroku would keep him updated with any problems. It was this knowledge that made him feel a little less anxious when he returned to the store the next day to work his scheduled morning shift.

He had attempted to get Shippou to change his concealment spell to include something that would weaken his sense of smell and his hearing. He didn't want his senses to be as weak as a human's, but he hoped to avoid a repeat of the body spray incident. Miroku tried to tell him that changing his sense of smell would do him no good in that situation because the body spray had a way of burrowing into the sinuses and making one's head ache, whether one could smell it or not. He ignored it. There were a number of other smells he would like to avoid. And he would enjoy not being able to hear every little conversation held within the store's walls.

Overhearing his co-workers' mundane conversations was bad enough. Take now, for example. He was in the break room with a number of other associates. They were all waiting in a line to clock in for the same morning shift. One woman, Maria may have been her name, was talking to Kagome.

"I had the craziest woman at the fitting room yesterday," Maria was explaining. "She gets this call on her cell phone . . . and you know how terrible cell phone reception is in this building. Well apparently, this phone call is so important that she needs to go outside to make sure she doesn't lose it and she asks me to watch her daughter for her while she is away. As if I am some kind of baby sitter."

Kagome shook her head, "And we're not supposed to do that."

"I know. But I ask you, what kind of parent goes up to a stranger and asks them to watch their kid? She didn't know anything about me. I could be a drug addict, a serial killer, or a kidnapper."

"I suppose she didn't think that of you. Plus, you're a woman. She probably felt safe asking a woman to do it, thinking all woman have inherent, motherly instincts."

"Well, that's just stupid . . . and sexist."

"So, what did you do?"

"Told her no, and she got upset and left, saying that she was going to complain to the manager."

Kagome laughed, "I'm sure that went over well." She affected a different voice, trying to imitate one of the managers, "Ma'am, we're a department store, not a daycare center."

"You wouldn't know it, judging by the number of children you see running around the store without their parents."

At this point, Sesshoumaru had clocked in and left the room to begin another day's work, glad to get away from his babbling co-workers.

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Later that day, Sesshoumaru was walking through the sporting goods department when he heard a high-pitched whistling coming from the general vicinity of the toy section. Certainly, it wasn't the most painful of sounds that he had encountered so far, but the pitch was almost to the level of sounding like a dog-whistle and its persistence was quite annoying. He walked toward the area, scanning each aisle as he passed, searching for the source. The acoustics of the building and the interference of the aisles of tall shelves allowed for some interesting effects in how sounds traveled in the store.

He stopped in his search when he saw Kagome on one of the toy aisles, straightening the hundreds of Bakugan toys. A futile effort, she knew, because no more than five minutes after she left the aisle, it would return to it's previous state of chaos. It was the way of things when it came to the toy department. It was like trying to keep a five-year-old's room tidy, only ten times worse. Yet, Kagome persisted because shopper traffic was slow and she had little else to do with her time. And any worker will tell you that if you don't have any work to do, find something to look busy before your boss comes around and gives you something to do.

Sesshoumaru regarded Kagome for a moment, wondering how that noise wasn't driving her insane. He had had his hearing dulled to the point that it was marginally better than human hearing and it was still aggravating to him. Surely, the noise was just as bad for her, unless she had a hearing problem. Then again, she seemed to be in a kind of daze as she worked. Maybe there was something else wrong with her.

"What is that horrible whistling sound?" Sesshoumaru questioned.

Kagome came out of her trance and looked at Sesshoumaru questioningly, "What was that?"

"I asked what that horrible whistling is." He hated repeating himself.

Kagome listened to the various sounds of the store for a moment, "Oh, it's a little kid blowing on one of those train whistles, recorders, whatever it is. They're out in the open and don't have any packaging, so anyone can pick it up and start playing with it."

Whose brilliant idea was that? He would have to find out and punish that person. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"Yes, but I manage to tune it out most of the time."

"Why don't you take it away from the kid?"

"Well, I could do that, but then some angered mother will complain about how I was mean to her child. Not to mention that there always seems to be some little kid playing with those things. We would have to post a permanent guard to keep them away. It would be easier if we stopped selling them altogether, but that isn't going to happen. I don't know why, though. It doesn't seem like anyone ever buys them."

"I see," Sesshoumaru was not entirely convinced with this excuse.

Kagome began speaking again as another thought hit her, "When you think about it, it's fascinating, really."

"It's a hollow piece of wood with holes in it. Air goes through it, sound comes out. Not very fascinating."

"Not that," Kagome paused in her work to look at him with a thoughtful expression. "I find it fascinating how human beings seem to have removed themselves from the evolutionary . . . coil, if that would be the right phrase for it."

Sesshoumaru stared at her in silence, expecting her to explain this great leap from a discussion of train whistles to evolutionary theory.

"Think about it," she continued, "As I understand Darwin's theory, evolution occurs when certain genes best fitted for an environment are passed from generation to generation, sometimes leading to noticeable changes in appearance. Sometimes it leads to a whole new species. Naturally, the genes not so well-suited become recessive or disappear altogether.

"This is a weak example, but take that kid blowing on the whistle. A whistle, mind you, that has likely been in the mouths of dozens of other people, dropped on the floor, and Goodness knows what else. This is not just a child's lack of awareness, this is genetics at work. Where is the parent to stop the child from putting strange things in its mouth? Why hasn't the parent taught the child not to put strange things in its mouth, especially during times like this? There's a Swine Flu epidemic going on. People have died from it. And it's likely that the parent is just as clueless as the child. It's sad.

"Millions of years ago, if some little Australophithecus or Homo habilius showed that kind of stupidity, it would be the first to get eaten by the saber-tooth tiger. The Homo habilius probably would have stuck himself in the foot with his spear in the process. But in the end, the stupidity genes of that particular being would be removed from the gene pool.

"But not today. No. If that little kid gets sick, the miracle of modern medicine will probably keep him alive. Despite Nature's attempt to weed out the weak, humanity will ensure that child will grow up and produce his own offspring. Thus keeping the stupidity genes in the gene pool."

Kagome finished her rant and stood with her hands on her hips, looking at Sesshoumaru as if expecting him to try to argue with her. He had to admit, she did have a point about some children's survival instinct, or lack thereof. He recalled an incident where he had been pushing a cart when a toddler suddenly appeared around the corner of an aisle. If he did not have such quick reflexes, he might have hit the child. The impact might have hurt, but it would not have caused any permanent damage to the child. The little boy's father, or grandfather, judging by his age, was at the other end of the aisle, not very concerned that the boy had wandered too far. He had seen what had happened and only said, "Yeah, he likes to walk around a little." Sesshoumaru couldn't help wondering if that is what the man would say the day a car hit the child while he was walking around in the middle of the street.

Then there are the numerous children he had seen standing up in shopping carts, leaning over the sides to reach for something. He wondered how many children had fallen out of those carts while their parents stood by, oblivious. That hard, tile floor can cause a lot of damage to a little skull.

Thinking over the impromptu lecture, he replied, "If the so-called 'stupidity genes' were removed millions of years ago, how would they still be present today?"

Kagome waved off the question, "It's probably a recessive gene that managed to survive through the millennia without manifesting itself, unless paired with another recessive stupidity gene. Of course, the more carriers, the greater the chances of it showing up in more people."

As good an answer as any for this bizarre conversation, "And your observation of evolution . . . do you study biological sciences?"

"Nope, this is all based off high school biology and the Darwin Awards."

"The Darwin Awards?"

"Yeah. You've never heard of them? They're stories of people who have either removed themselves from the gene pool, or came very close to doing so, through one stupid act or another. Some are just myths, though."

Sesshoumaru nodded, making a note that, maybe, he should read these stories. The whistling reached a new intensity and Sesshoumaru decided that he needed to act.

"What time is it?"

Kagome looked at her watch, "12:30."

"Oh good, it's time for my lunch break." He headed to the break room to punch out for lunch. He pulled off his work shirt, leaving on the T-shirt underneath. Another thing he had learned in his first few days was not to wander the store on his breaks while still wearing a name tag, or his work clothes. Most employees wore undershirts or had light jackets to cover up the work clothes. It wasn't that it was against the rules to shop in their work clothes, it was just easier to get through the store without being hassled. Most shoppers don't seem to pay attention to faces, an open jacket, a lack of name tag, or a purse slung over a shoulder. But if they see a work uniform, they try to get help from it.

As he walked back to the toy department, he grabbed a hand basket. He approached the aisle with the train whistles and, with a single swipe of his arm, pushed all of the ones on the shelf into the basket. Still, he could hear a whistle somewhere in the store. He followed the sound, and found the culprit in one of the bedding aisles. A little girl, trailing after he mother, was blowing on the whistle incessantly.

He paused, considering how to approach the girl. People these days are so anxious when it comes to strangers approaching their children. Then again, he was in disguise. He wouldn't wake up the next morning to read headlines like, "Business Mogul Attempts Child Molestation at Department Store." Of course not. Ichirou would get the blame, and he didn't really exist. And he wasn't planning on any kind of molestation, anyways.

Mind made up, he approached the pair. The mother was completely oblivious to the danger approaching. Not many humans are aware of the dangerous predators that pose as one of them on a daily basis. Sesshoumaru thought over Kagome's words. Saber-tooth tiger food. Yes, that sounded right. He regarded the annoying girl for a moment.

"Give me that," He snatched the whistle from the little girl's hands.

"Hey that's mine!" She whined. When her protest went unheeded, she resorted to the course of action that she knew to be tried and true for getting what she wanted. She started crying.

The mother looked around to see what was distressing her daughter, "What do you think you are doing?"

Sesshoumaru barely glanced at the woman, "Ridding myself of this annoyance." He snapped the whistle in two. The little girl began to cry in earnest over the loss of her toy. The mother was enraged. Neither paid any attention to the fact that the whistle had been made out of a sturdy wood that should not have broken so easily.

"How dare you . . ." The woman began.

"Although it goes against my better judgment, I'm doing your daughter a favor, Ma'am, . Or did you intend for her to contract any number of illnesses from playing with this?" He held up the broken toy, "I suppose you let her play in traffic, too?"

The woman was stunned as he walked away. Hopefully, she would not realize that he was an employee and cause him any trouble. He would hate to get fired before his month was up. Then again, it would have been worth it.

When he was a few aisles away, he realized he had nothing to worry about. He heard the mother scolding the child, "Melissa stop crying! What have I told you about putting strange things in your mouth?"

"Don't."

"Right. Now stop crying, or we will leave right now."

Sesshoumaru smiled to himself as he made his way toward the cashiering area in electronics. He was beginning to like the idea of wearing this . . . mask. To be able to do things that, as Sesshoumaru Takashi, he would not be able to do. He could act completely different from the stoic businessman that everyone knew. It was liberating. He passed Kagome on the way, "Kagome, could you check me out, please." This little adventure had put him in a good mood that would last him the rest of the day.

Kagome walked to the register, giving him a perplexed look, "What has you so happy?"

He placed the basket of whistles on the counter and Kagome smiled. "Buying them all, huh?" She asked.

"I am," Sesshoumaru replied smugly.

She scanned one of the whistles, "There are eleven here?" She counted again to make sure.

"Twelve," Sesshoumaru set the broken whistle on the counter.

Kagome's eyebrows raised in surprise, "Anyone ever suggest you have anger issues?"

"Once or twice." Miroku had pointed it out a couple of times.

"You know this is just a temporary solution. We will get more whistles in. You'll go broke if you keep buying them."

"True, but I won't have to hear from this annoyance for the rest of the day, at least."

Kagome laughed a delighted and somewhat evil laugh, "Spoken like a true newbie. Another annoyance will replace it, and it may be worse than the whistle."

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Author's Note: So here's the latest update. I'm not sure if I am happy with it. I kind of like how it is set up, but then, I feel that I should have had other events before this. I don't know. All I can say is don't think that Sesshoumaru is changing just because he can carry on a civil conversation with Kagome. He still has little respect for anyone. Others still think he's a jerk, and I am working to come up with situations to illustrate that fact. It is just part of Kagome's personality that she can get along with almost anyone.

I'm glad everyone got a kick out of the body spray incident. With a lot of the situations in this story, it has been my aim to give the reader a "been there" feeling. Apparently, I succeeded.

For those who were wondering, this story is set in North Carolina. I hadn't made it clear in the story yet, but will likely make a reference to it at some point. I figured I'd stick with the state I know best.

Thank you all for your reviews. I appreciate every one of them. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time.

~CW