Disclaimer: If it's a well-known name or brand, I do not own it.
Kagome had been right about a new annoyance taking the place of the whistles. There had to be a name for this phenomenon. Something like: the Law of Conservation of Pointless and Noisy Toys, which states that an annoying toy can not be created or destroyed . . . only changed into something else. Case in point, Sesshoumaru now hated every Disney "singing sensation" and the many different toys that played their songs . . . over and over again. Didn't their batteries ever die?
The stupid things managed to migrate all over the store, as if someone were standing at the store's entrance, passing them out like candy to every little boy and girl. Naturally, the mother load of these toys was in the toy department. Which was where Sesshoumaru had been assigned today. To make matters worse, there was the constant noise of the televisions and stereos from the nearby electronics department. At least the stereos could pick up local radio stations. The televisions, on the other hand, only played the same five-minute loop. One of the snippets of that loop played a song from the latest album of yet another Disney "singing sensation." It was enough to drive one insane. At least he could break away from the area once in a while to help in other areas of the store.
"Can I get help with a spill in grocery? Beer aisle." A voice asked over the walkie.
If it meant a momentary escape from noisy toys and children begging for said toys, Sesshoumaru was more than willing to help. He spoke into his own walkie, "I'm nearby. What do you need?"
"A trash can, broom, and a lot of the absorbing powder."
Sesshoumaru went to the stock room to retrieve the supplies from the cleaning closet. When he reached the designated aisle and saw the spill that Sango was guarding, he questioned whether or not this would be worse than staying in Toys.
It was a spilled six-pack of one of those flavored beverages that, despite its claim to have an alcohol content equivalent to beer, had the same effect as sugar water. It was an impressive spill, too, spanning the entire width of the aisle and running at least half of its length. To add to the fun, and their potential for injury, broken glass was sprinkled throughout the mess. Two lines of liquid came out of the largest puddle, signifying that at least one person had driven a cart through it. Most likely it was the person who had dropped the six pack in the first place.
"Great," Sesshoumaru remarked sarcastically as he set the trash can and broom down and stepped carefully around the outer edges of the spill while handing Sango one of the packages of absorbent.
"Thanks," Sango replied as she took the proffered package and surveyed the mess, trying to determine the best approach to clean it up.
Sesshoumaru noted the soaked box that had contained the glass bottles. A grape-flavored drink. That explained the smell of artificial grape flavoring that permeated the air. But there was the hint of something else. He bent down to pick up a bottle cap that was still attached to the broken bottle neck, "The box claims the drink is grape-flavored, but this one is raspberry."
Sango shrugged, "People like to mix and match. They're not too concerned over the fact that others may want a full six-pack of the same flavor."
After a moment's thought, she spoke about the spill, "You just gotta love people. I was in the main aisle when I heard the crash. Then I saw a woman walk out of this aisle as if nothing had happened. Didn't bother to stop to tell me or anything."
"Maybe she thought you already knew, since you were close enough to hear the crash," Sesshoumaru suggested, but not really believing that theory himself. It wasn't uncommon for customers to walk away from a mess they had made and not bother to inform a clerk about it. He had heard rumors of the "concerned customers," who would have the decency to let associates know about the potential safety hazards they had caused, but he was sure they were just a myth.
"Sure." Sango replied skeptically as she ripped open her package. An unpleasant chemical scent mixed with the grape aroma as she sprinkled the sawdust-like powder around the outer edges of the spill. "I bet she wanted to come back and pretend to get injured so she could sue the store. I saw something like that on the news, once. A woman went to a mom-and-pop grocery store, went to the cooking aisle, poured some vegetable oil on the floor, and left the bottle lying on the floor to look like it had fallen off the shelf. She left the aisle, came back a couple of minutes later, and 'slipped' in the puddle. What she didn't know was that the owner had recently installed security cameras and saw everything she had done."
Sesshoumaru nodded his understanding. He wouldn't put such actions past some people. And he had no doubt that some people looked at large retail chains and thought about all of the money they could leach out of them. But would they really try something so stupid, knowing that there were security cameras posted everywhere? He ripped open his own package of the absorbent and began sprinkling the substance over the larger puddles, where it instantly turned into mush. He hoped the four packages he had brought would be enough.
Sango knelt at the edge of the spill, grabbed the small broom, and began to sweep the powder toward the center, where the largest concentration of liquid was. After a couple of moments, she stood again. "I think we will need another broom and some spray cleaner. I'll be back in a minute." She walked out of the aisle.
Sesshoumaru, having emptied the other packages of powder, knelt on the floor to take up Sango's task. He realized too late that his knee landed in a smaller puddle. And was that a piece of glass digging into his knee? Yes, it was. It felt like it may have broken through to his skin. For him, this injury ranked as something far below minor . . . a mosquito bite. He would heal as soon as he removed the glass, but he would be left with a hole in his slacks and a bloodstain that would most likely draw attention. That was in addition to the fact that he would smell like grapes for the rest of the day.
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At about the same time that Sesshoumaru and Sango were dealing with the mess, Miroku walked into the store. He had been meaning to make a return visit for the past week, the image of the lovely Sango still burned into his mind. But certain events had prevented him from doing so. More specifically, he had been recovering from a throw-pillow-related injury. Who knew those things could be thrown so hard?
For two days he had been sporting a swollen nose with slightly darkened eyes. When he talked, he sounded like he had a cold. People at work assumed that he did have a cold and had a tendency to avoid him in fear of getting sick. He preferred to let them believe whatever they wanted – it was less embarrassing than the truth. While in this condition, he decided that he would not attempt to contact Sango. He wanted to look his best and be his most suave when he tried to finagle her into a date. He hoped she was working today.
He headed back to the same department where he had first met her. Instead, he found the equally-lovely Kagome, helping a woman with the digital cameras. He stood nearby, watching their interaction. It seemed the woman was looking for a camera so she could take pictures of her two-year-old son.
"I need something that has a about a 10-times zoom and a short delay, so I don't miss any photo ops," the woman was explaining. She motioned to her son, who was quietly sitting in a cart, eating cereal out of a snack bag. "Usually, he's running all over the place. I try to take a picture, and the camera is so slow it doesn't take the picture until a couple of seconds later. By then, he's not even in the frame anymore."
Kagome was smiling at the woman and her son, enjoying the woman's energetic and friendly manner. She directed the young mother to some of the cameras that best fit the features she wanted. The woman picked out one of the cameras Kagome had suggested and aimed it at her son to see how quick the shutter snapped. Then she pulled him out of the cart. Setting him on the ground, she told him to do something so she could try an action shot. Naturally, the little boy did not cooperate, and stood still, staring at his mother as if she were insane. It probably didn't help the little boy's opinion when his mother started to move the camera up and down in an attempt to simulate an action shot. She seemed pleased with the results, but looked at some of the other cameras before making a decision.
Meanwhile, the little boy decided to walk the few feet across the main aisle, heading for a bin of giant beach balls. His movements distracted the mother and she stopped looking at the cameras to see what he was doing. When it was obvious the little boy was too short to reach any of the beach balls, she called him back. As he toddled back, he noticed a piece of candy that someone had dropped on the floor.
He picked up the candy and raised it to his mouth, but stopped because of his mother's protests, "No, no. Don't eat that! It's dirty!."
After a moment, he set the piece of candy back on the floor, looking at his mother as if to say, "I didn't want to eat it, anyways."
This little action caused both the woman and Kagome to laugh before returning to the previous discussion of cameras. The woman looked over the few cameras that had the features she wanted, while discussing the luck she had had with the different brands and what she had heard from customer reviews. After some consideration, she chose the first camera.
After Kagome checked her out and wished her a good day, Miroku approached her, "Good afternoon, Kagome."
She looked up and smiled at the familiar face, "Hi, Miroku. How are you, today?"
"I'm doing well. And you?"
"I'm fine. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Actually, there is," He took on a serious tone that reminded Kagome of her first encounter with this charismatic person.
"If you're going to ask me to bear your children, sorry, I've already promised to bear someone else's children," She joked.
Miroku laughed at the jab to his favorite pick-up line, "No, it's not that. I was just wondering if Sango was working today."
Kagome smiled, "She is. She's in the grocery department right now. In the beer aisle."
"Thank you, Kagome," He walked toward the designated area, formulating how he would go about getting a date with Sango. As he rounded the corner to enter the aisle, he stopped dead in his tracks. There before him was Sango, on her hands and knees, the fabric of her khaki slacks drawn taut over her firm rear, as she wiped up some of the sticky residue from the spill. So entranced was he that Miroku didn't even notice the other presence in the aisle. That was until said presence cleared his throat.
"Shouldn't you be at work, Miroku?"
Miroku looked over at the speaker and was torn between which sight gave him more enjoyment – Sango's firm ass, or his boss and friend, Sesshoumaru, on his knees, one knee clearly wet, sweeping up sawdust and broken glass. To see the stoic, immaculate daiyoukai doing something so domestic and looking not-so-immaculate was priceless, even if he was disguised as Ichirou.
Sesshoumaru was giving him a look that said, "Go ahead, say something." It took all of his will power not to laugh or make any kind of comment – that way death lay.
Recalling Sesshoumaru's question, he replied, "I'm taking a long lunch. So what happened here?"
"What does it look like?" Sesshoumaru snapped.
At the mention of Miroku's name, Sango had sat up in a kneeling position and turned around to look at their visitor, "You two know each other?" Immediately, she felt a little silly for asking a question with such an obvious answer and hoped Ichirou wouldn't make a snide comment over it – as he had a tendency to do to anyone who asked such questions – to further add to her embarrassment.
Thankfully, Miroku answered before Ichirou could say anything, "Yes, Ichirou and I are cousins." He explained.
Sango looked at each of the two men. It seemed an odd coincidence to her that they would even know each other, much less be related. But she guessed she had seen stranger things in the past, "I see. Well, is there something you needed, or are you here to see Ichirou?"
"Actually, I am here to see you, Sango."
Sango smiled nervously and blushed a little. She had thought Miroku was cute the first time she met him. It wasn't just the well-tailored suit fitting over his athletic build, or the stylishly messy cut of his short, dark hair. He had a charming smile to go along with his personality and eyes that showed kindness and a hint of mischief. That was what had drawn her to him that day, instead of his very attractive friend. Compared to the tall, pale man, Miroku seemed so warm and charismatic. Then again, a rock would have seemed warm and charismatic when compared to the other guy. If she really thought about it, Ichirou reminded her a bit of that man . . . but that was besides the point.
"You are?" She asked. "What about?"
"Well, I was hoping that you would be free for dinner tonight."
"Oh, well, I . . ." Sango was a little overwhelmed by the idea that Miroku had come to the store just to ask her out.
Miroku noticed her hesitancy and tried to offer a suggestion that might make her feel a little more comfortable, "Perhaps we could go out as a group. I can bring Ichirou along, and you could bring a friend. Maybe Kagome."
Sesshoumaru made a point of noisily dumping a dustpan full of sawdust and glass into the trashcan. "I won't be available," He replied coolly. Was there some kind of conspiracy going on? Why, all of a sudden, was everyone out to meddle in his life? Why was Miroku so insistent on this girl? Maybe Miroku was plotting something with his father.
"That's fine," Miroku replied with a grin. "I'll rope Sesshoumaru into it."
Sesshoumaru remained silent, not wanting to contradict Miroku on "Sesshoumaru's" opinion of the matter while in the presence of someone who was not privy to the details of the situation.
"Well, I don't think Kagome would want to go, either. She never goes out when the others invite her out after work."
"Why is that?" Miroku asked.
"I don't know. She always gives excuses like . . . she has to work early the next day, or she has a lot of work to do at home. Stuff like that."
"What work does she have to do?"
Sango shrugged, "House repairs, or something. She doesn't talk about her home life much."
This little bit of mystery about the girl who seemed to be one of the few intelligent beings at this store piqued Sesshoumaru's interest, but he wasn't going to let Miroku know that.
"Well, in that case," Miroku got back to the subject. "Maybe I could take you out to lunch, instead?" A good idea. A meal during the day. She would go back to work afterwards. All perfectly innocent.
Sango smiled at his persistence, "It is about time for my lunch break. I guess we could grab something at the burger place across the street."
She and Sesshoumaru finished cleaning up the mess. Sesshoumaru gathered up the trashcan and cleaning supplies.
Miroku noticed the wet spot on Sesshoumaru's knee, "It seems that you are bleeding, Ichirou."
Sango looked at his knee, "Are you alright? You should get that cleaned."
"It's just a scratch," Sesshoumaru made a mental note to remove the piece of glass embedded in his skin.
"But it could get infected."
"I'm sure the alcohol killed any germs," As if he would get an infection of any kind. He started to carry the cleaning supplies back to the stock room.
"I can help take that back," Sango offered, but Sesshoumaru waved her off.
"Take your lunch," An almost kind gesture, if it weren't for his tone of voice that made him sound like he were giving an order. Being kind was the furthest thing from Sesshoumaru's mind. He had decided that if Miroku were occupied with work and going out with Sango, that would be one less person to meddle in his personal life.
He returned the cleaning supplies to their closet and left the stock room, passing through the electronics department as he went. A woman stopped him, "Excuse me, I would like to get an Xbox 360."
Knowing that the item was locked up, Sesshoumaru called for an associate with keys to the case, and heard Kagome respond.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
If it was possible to die of boredom, Kagome was pretty sure that she was at Death's door. Daytime shifts were always the worst. Sure, there were the sudden waves of shoppers at times, but they were few and far between. During the downtime, Kagome had no work to do. The inactivity was unbearable. She would try to find projects to work on, or just straighten up her area, but that could only do so much.
After her encounter with Miroku, Kagome leaned back against the cashier's counter, trying to decide what to do. She was about to get into a staring contest with an elephant plush toy that was perched on top of one of the registers. He, she had decided the toy was a he, was the Electronics mascot for today. It seemed everyday a toy would find its way to the this counter and hang around as if it was the place to be. She stopped herself before she got too involved in staring the contest, knowing that she would lose. Besides, she needed to do something that made her look productive.
She wandered the aisles, straightening items that didn't need straightening and shopping for items that she didn't need. That was one of the dangers of working in retail. There were so many items that caught her interest. Working in the electronics department was even more dangerous. She had been studying the televisions for some time now, trying to decide which would be the best to go in her parents' living room. And a PS3 was looking pretty good, too. She resisted the temptation, though. She didn't need any of these things. She could stand to wait until she had paid off other bills and had saved up some money.
A teenage girl approached her, wanting to get a pair of headphones. They were an expensive pair that were kept on a locking peg. Kagome handed the girl the headphones to let her look at them, then stood to the side while the girl and her mother deliberated over them. The girl wanted the headphones because of the cool graphics on them. The mother wanted her to get a different pair that were more practical. When looked to for advice, Kagome only stated that both sets were high quality. She didn't want to get involved in this argument.
After further discussion, the girl declared that she would buy the headphones herself and began to count out how much money she had. Kagome, tried to ignore the conversation, but she couldn't help paying attention when the girl started explaining to her mother where she had gotten the money.
"Dad gave me this twenty. I stole this ten from my mo- . . . I mean . . . Lisa."
Kagome suddenly felt very awkward for having to witness this, but rules were rules. She wasn't supposed to leave unlocked, high-priced items with customers until they had paid for them.
"Oh, she's your mom, now?" The mother asked, then turned to Kagome, "Now she's calling a twenty-three-year-old her mother."
The tone of the mother's voice suggested that she was on the verge of breaking into a tirade about how many hours she had spent in labor, giving birth to this ungrateful child – not to mention all of the other things she had done for her while growing up. This, after her husband had tossed her aside for some woman half his age. And now her daughter was calling this woman her mother! Despite being just three years older than this Lisa woman, Kagome understood the mother's view point, but had no idea how to respond. She settled with shaking her head slowly while making a disapproving tsk sound.
After further arguing, the mother stated, "Either you get this pair, or you don't get any at all."
"Fine!" The girl replied and handed the headphones back to Kagome.
As they started to walk away, the mother turned back to Kagome and thanked her for her patience. Kagome just smiled and began to walk back to the cashier's counter. Some days, working at the store was more interesting than watching daytime dramas. She had heard the life stories of many people while working here. Some were funny, but others were listings of hardships. Either way, Kagome would stand there and listen, offering a sympathetic nod from time to time. Sometimes, people just needed someone to talk to.
"I need the keys at the Xbox case," Kagome heard Ichirou's voice over the radio, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"I'm on my way," She replied and walked toward the video game aisles.
When she got there, she greeted the woman standing next to Ichirou.
"I would like to get an Xbox 360," The woman requested.
Kagome smiled and nodded, "Which one would you like?"
"The 360." The woman answered as if Kagome were stupid for not understanding her the first time. Automatically, it set Kagome on edge.
"We sell three different systems," She explained while hiding her irritation behind a smile, and pointed out the three boxes.
"Oh," The woman replied. "What's the difference?"
Kagome repressed a sigh. She could tell this was going to be an experience with one of those people, the ones who didn't know what they were buying. Most likely it was for her child, who insisted that owning a gaming system was a matter of life and death, and she had not bothered to learn anything about it. Either that, or she had gotten so caught up in the hype about it that, even though she was not a gamer, decided she had to have one. People like that annoyed her. To Kagome, coming into a store, saying that you want an item, but not knowing anything about it, was like handing over a blank check to the sales person. If Kagome were working on commission and had no integrity what so ever, she would take full advantage of a customer's ignorance. ("Oh, yes, you need an Elite, and a 50-inch plasma TV to go along with it. It won't work on any other kind of TV.")
That was to say nothing of the many times that a parent came in to purchase an M-rated game for his or her ten-year-old child. The questioning looks when Kagome carded the parent . . . her explanation of the game's rating . . . then the look the parent would give the child that said, "You didn't tell me it was mature-rated." It was funny, and sad at the same time. Shouldn't parents have a more active interest in their children's forms of entertainment? What else were those kids getting past their parents?
"Memory size," The most simple answer Kagome could give. She had long since given up trying to educate people in their purchases. They didn't listen, anyways. Customers had a way of asking the same question several times within the course of a conversation. Kagome would always answer the questions in the most simple way, but the customers still didn't get it. Either they weren't listening to her answers, or she had started speaking in another language without realizing it. Perhaps words like "gigabyte," "megabyte," and "hard drive" were still a foreign language to some people.
After Kagome pointed out how much memory each system had, despite the fact that they were shown clearly on the packaging, the customer asked, "Well how much memory do you think he would need?"
Kagome could only guess that "he" was either a son or a spouse, "That depends on how many games he will play and how many things he will download."
Oops, another word that seemed to throw her, "Download? What would he be downloading?"
"Video games, movie trailers . . ."
"And he can play more than one game at a time?"
"Yes, he can save games as he plays and switch off when he gets tired of one."
It seemed that her explanation had only added more confusion to the woman. What had seemed as a simple shopping trip had become a game of Three Card Monte. Which would be the right one to choose?
Kagome took pity on the woman and offered her honest advice, "I'd go with the 60 gigabyte. He can play old Xbox games on it, too. If it's not what he wanted, he can always return it."
The woman looked at her, "He can? Then I'll get that one." She pointed out her choice. "And if he wants any games or accessories, he can pick them out himself. I'm through."
Kagome retrieved the system and walked the customer to the cash register to ring out her purchase. After wishing the woman a good day and watching her walk away, Kagome looked at her watch. Good. It was finally time for her to take a lunch break.
She went in search of Ichirou. As the associate working in the closest department to electronics, he would be the one to cover the area while she was on break. This was a test, really. If he could handle the department during breaks, he could handle it for an entire shift. It was all part of the managers' plan. The poor guy.
She found him standing next to a cart of toys that he was working to put back in their proper places.
"I hate to do this to you," She stated as she held up her keys. "But it's time for my break, and I need you to cover my area."
Sesshoumaru took the keys without any comment, distracted by the melancholy feeling radiating from the girl. This wouldn't be the first time he had noticed it. After a moment, he replied, "It's not a problem. Enjoy your break."
Kagome smiled, "Thanks." She was about to walk away, but paused as she noticed something, "Do you smell grapes?"
"No."
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Author's Note: I'm back, finally. Writer's block. What can you do? I had plenty of ideas, but couldn't motivate myself to get them written down or get events ordered they way I wanted them. No matter how I fiddled with this one, it seems a bit off. I'm starting to think I may need a beta – someone to check my grammar, to tell me whether or not an idea is good, and to get off my lazy butt and update already.
For those of you wanting romance in this story, patience please. Sesshoumaru is . . . well . . . Sesshoumaru and Kagome has issues of her own. It will be a slow development and I have a somewhat complicated plot in mind – I hope I can pull it off.
Anyways, thank you for your reviews. Knowing that so many of you want to keep reading makes me want to keep writing. I hope you didn't find this chapter too boring. I should update again, soon.