Contracting Love

A/N: Well, here we are. Finally, another chapter. And, for all you loyal readers out there, we have a special treat: a long chapter!!! WOOT!
And now for a little Read and Response time:
First, I’d like to say:
WOOT! I’m on someone’s recommended reading list! WOOT! Thanks so much quirkyslayer. That’s a *huge* compliment and I even did a happy dance! WOOT!
Drake220: Yes. Always turn off the phone. ALWAYS!
Sakuro Fubuki: To answer your question of if I’ve done that before: …no comment…
Miroku2235: WOOT!
Crayon eater: wink wink, nudge nudge. You’ll just have to wait and see what I have planned for them. And I do have plans. Naughty ones. Hehehe
Thanks to everyone who has left me reviews. I really enjoy reading all of them! Keep reviewing, tell me what you think. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to improve on the story. (hm…I said “WOOT!” a lot, didn’t I?)
As always, reviews are welcomed, encouraged, and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters…I just use them for my own sadistic purposes…hehehe…

Contracting Love
By Ashes

Chapter 11: The Reunion, Act I

Sango carefully took in her appearance in the mirror before her. Every hair was in place, curling perfectly and held together in a loose up-do. Every aspect of her makeup was done in such a way as to accent her graceful features. Her nails had been polished, her skin washed and scented. She’d spent the better part of the day pampering herself, and now that she was dressed and ready to go, she only had to wait until Miroku came to get her.

The theme of the reunion was the school colors, red and black. Sango had chosen a red shimmering strapless dress that fell to her ankles. Slits on both sides ran almost all the way up her thighs, stopping just shy of her black garter belt which held up her silk stockings. Three inch black heals made her legs look absolutely stunning.

She frowned at her reflection. “I wonder if Miroku will like me in this dress…?”

**He’d probably like that dress a lot better lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.**

Her face instantly turned as red as the fabric of the dress. Didn’t they have medications to get rid of the voices in your head?

**Don’t even think about it. I’m just saying what you’re thinking. Besides, don’t even pretend that after last night you wouldn’t like that just as much as he would.**

“I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on the reunion. Besides…I’m not dressing up for Miroku anyway, so I don’t really care what he’ll think about it.”

**Yeah, keep telling yourself that.**

“I’m doing this to prove Naraku wrong. I want to make him sorry he ever said those things to me. He’ll regret the day he gave up this girl.”

**When you go to this fantasy world of yours, do the flowers talk to you, too?**

“Shut up.”

**No, seriously.**

“Look,” she said, glaring at her reflection and pointing a finger at it, “Everything has been going exactly according to plan so far and I’m not about to let you put ideas in my head and ruin my concentration.”

**What the hell are you talking about? *Nothing* has gone according to plan so far, with the exception of both of you showing up to the first meeting!**

“Okay, so, not exactly according to plan, but more or less.”

**Right. So you’re saying that falling in love with him was part of your master plan?**

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not-” She froze, her eyes growing wide. “Ohmygod.”

**Yeah.**

“I’m…”

**Yep.**

“Ohmygod.”

**Uh huh.**

She began pacing the room, trying to shake the treacherous thoughts from her mind. “That’s impossible. I *can’t* be in love with Miroku!”

**Believe it, girl. You’ve got it bad.**

“How would you know?” she snapped.

**Get butterflies in the stomach whenever you see him?**

“That’s just nerves.”

**Uh huh. What about sweaty palms? Increased heart rate? Breathlessness? How about the fact that his voice makes you want to tear your clothes off and jump his bones?**

“That’s not love, that’s lust.”

**Oh yeah? What about the urge to cuddle with him on the couch and watch old movies like you did the other night? What about the feeling of jealousy you got when that waitress was checking out his butt last night as you guys were leaving the restaurant?**

“I wasn’t jealous! …I had heartburn.”

**Heartburn my ass! You gave that girl a *death glare*! Sango, grow up already! You’re twenty-eight years old! It’s okay to fall in love at this point!**

“I can’t be in love. I can’t! It’s just…not possible!”

**And why not?**

“Because I don’t know anything about him! I don’t even know his last name!”

Her inner voice sighed. **Honey, love is blind. It’s up to us to give it eyes to see with. Forget his credentials. Look at his *soul*.**

She paused in her pacing to consider. “Wow. That was kinda deep.”

**Yeah. Every once in a while, you do that.**

“Oh God.” She collapsed on the bed, her head held between her hands. “I’m in love. I’m in love with the guy I *hired* to play my fiancé. …What am I going to do?”

**That’s a good question.**

There was a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock. Miroku had agreed to pick her up at 8:45 on the dot. He was exactly on time. She jumped up and stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “Okay, just be calm.” She hurried to let him in.

***

Miroku was floored at the beauty who answered the door. Her dress clung to her luscious curves, hugging her like it was custom made to fit her form. His fingers itched to reach out and discover if her skin was as soft and warm as it looked. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Wow.” His eyes moved slowly over her body. “You look…fantastic!”

She blushed prettily. “Thanks. You look great.”

He shrugged. Over dinner the night before she’d told him the reunion was supposed to be formal. He’d chosen his best black suit with a black shirt and topped the ensemble off with a red tie to go along with her school colors. “Here,” he said, handing her the bouquet of red roses he’d bought for her, “these are for you.”

“They’re beautiful.” She inhaled the sweet fragrance and smiled. “I’ll go put these in some water.”

Miroku closed the door and followed her to the kitchen, lingering in the doorway, watching as she busied herself with the flowers. He came up behind her as she arranged them in the vase and wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. She felt so good in his arms. He never wanted to let go.

“Are you sure we can’t just skip the reunion?” he asked, dropping his voice an octave. “I’ve got other things I could teach you, Sango.”

The breath caught in her throat. **Yes!** “Not if you’re going to earn your paycheck, we can’t.” **Damnit! Why did you have to remind us of that?!**

He hated it when she did that. He hated being constantly reminded of what he was, like she was trying to put distance between them. But she couldn’t deny how her body reacted to him. Tonight was their last night together and he hadn’t given up yet. He’d break through her barrier if it took him all night.

He shrugged. “You already paid me, remember?” He turned her to face him. “This,” he said running his hands down her sides and over her hips, “I’ll do for free.” He saw the fire ignite in her eyes and leaned in to nuzzle her neck. “Care to finish what we started last night?”

**Yes! Oh God Yes!**

Her anger died almost as soon as it was born, its heat being replaced with a different kind of fire. She’d said it out of nervousness and the desire to put up a block between them. He’d countered by acknowledging it, almost as if he could see right through her. Maybe he could. Sango had been told more than once that she had a glass face, and her body reacted with a will of its own when Miroku touched her.

Her will was cracking. She had to do something, and fast, before things went as far as they had last night…or farther.

“We should…get going.” Her voice shook slightly.

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed, taking a step back. They stared at each other for several long moments before he smiled and gently caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “Common. Let’s show that bastard what he let go.”

***

The reunion was in one of New York’s top hotels, one Miroku was quite familiar with. He’d escorted several of high society’s wealthiest ladies to balls and charities here, and had tried out some of the beds upstairs. He hadn’t expected Sango’s high school to have their reunion in such a high class place.

“Where did you say you went to high school again?” he asked as they approached a table with custom made nametags.

“It was a private school in Manhattan,” she replied. “My parents scraped and saved so that my brother and I could have the best education possible.”

They approached the table with the name tags. A woman in her mid-fifties was checking names off a list. She looked up and smiled at Sango and Miroku, her brown eyes sparkling with humor.

“Why, Miss Taijiya! It’s so good to see your smiling face again. How are you my dear?”

Sango beamed. “Mrs. Morton! I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight. Don’t tell me they skimped on the food and are making us eat ‘Sloppy-Joe Surprise’ tonight?”

The woman laughed. “Oh, no. I just volunteered. The Planning Committee contacted the school about a month ago inviting the faculty and staff to the reunion as guests or volunteers. So, here I am!” Her laughing gaze turned to Miroku. “And who is this handsome young man you’ve brought with you, Miss Taijiya?”

“Oh!” Sango blushed. “Forgive me. Mrs. Morton, this is Miroku, my fiancé. Miroku, this is Mrs. Morton, the finest lunch lady Baker High ever saw.”

Miroku smiled charmingly, taking her outstretched hand and landing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Mrs. Morton’s jaw dropped. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Morton.”

“Likewise.” She looked him over carefully. “You’re a handsome one, I’ll give you that, and a charmer. You’d just better take good care of my Sango, young man. A girl as good as her only comes around once in a life time, you know.”

“Rest assured, Mrs. Morton, I will do everything in my power to keep her deliriously happy for as long as humanly possible.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Now,” she handed Sango a plastic name tag, “this one is yours, my dear. And we don’t have one for your young man, so we’ll just make him one.” She took a blank stickable nametag from the top of a stack and began writing. “Let’s see…M-I-R-O-K-U…What’s your last name, dear?”

“Misuteri.”

Mrs. Morton nodded along as he spelled it for her. “All right, there you go, dear. Now, you two take care and have a good time.”

“We will. Thanks Mrs. Morton.” Sango smiled and waved.

“Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding, now!” she called after them.

Miroku pulled Sango to a stop just before rounding the corner. She was fiddling with her name tag, trying to find the best way to pin it on. Gently he reached for it. “Here, let me help?” She nodded, handing it to him. “It seems that we’ve managed to make it through our first test,” he said, his voice silky as he brushed the top of her breast with his fingers while pinning on the name tag. “I think it was rather successful, don’t you?”

She smiled, taking his name tag and pealing the backing off. “I’d say so.” She slapped it on his chest with a resounding thud.

He grabbed her and pulled her toward him. “You’ll pay for that one, Sango.” He grinned wickedly.

She grinned back. “Do you promise?”

Stunned, he could only watch as she rounded the corner, a devilish grin on her face.

***

“Okay,” Sango said as she leaned back into Miroku’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder as he listened to her recount tales of the people in the room. “That woman in the pink shirt was the head cheerleader. And she dated that guy right there.” She pointed to a balding man in a black suit, his potbelly distending out from his large frame. His arm was draped around a leggy blond in a tight black dress. “Huh. I’d heard they’d gotten married right after high school. …I guess *that* didn’t last very long. That must be his new wife…?”

Miroku looked closer at the blond and chuckled. He leaned into Sango, whispering in her ear. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

He placed a lingering kiss on her exposed shoulder before elaborating. “I know that girl. Her name’s Maggie. She works for the same agency I do.”

Sango’s eyes widened. “You mean…?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “I doubt she’s here for anything but show.”

He felt her body stiffen beneath him. “Do you…think she’ll….”

He turned her to face him, placing a hand on her cheek and running his thumb along her jaw line. His smile was warm as he reassured her. “Don’t worry, Sango. Maggie’s a good girl, and a friend of mine. She won’t give the game away, trust me.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

They grinned at each other as Miroku leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.

“Sango? Is that you?”

Sango turned to see a tall, well-built, *very* handsome man approach her. He had a charming smile and huge brown eyes that sparkled with happiness. Like most of the other men he was dressed in a black suit, but sported a black tie with green lettering that read ‘E=MC2’. She smiled nervously and searched her brain for a name to go with the face that only seemed slightly familiar.

“Wow,” the man said stopping in front of her and giving her an appreciative once over. “You look great! You’ve hardly changed a bit since high school. It’s really good to see you!”

Was it her or did Miroku’s arms just get a bit tighter around her waist? She still couldn’t place him. He was obviously one of the gorgeous people, at least in looks, but he wasn’t acting like he’d ever snubbed her in high school. In fact, he was acting like an old friend.

His smile broadened as he guess her dilemma. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

She blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so long, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“That’s okay. Here, maybe this will help.” He pulled out a pair of thick black glasses , minus the lenses, out of one of his pockets. He placed them on his face and adjusted them before shoving his hands in his pockets and grinning.

Recognition hit her like a freight train. “Oh my God. Josh?” He nodded, obviously enjoying this as much as she was. “Josh!” She threw her arms around his neck with a squeal of delight. Picking her up, he twirled her around once before setting her back down in front of Miroku, who at this point was more than a little curious. “Oh my God, you’ve changed so much! I never would have recognized you without those things.”

Josh took the glasses off and shoved him back in his pocket. “Yeah. It’s amazing what a pair of contacts and a decent haircut will do to ya. But you, you look great! Wow. Finally gave ol’ pin prick the boot, huh?”

She laughed at the nickname Josh had christened Naraku with their senior year. He had no idea how well the name fit. “Yeah. It turned out I wasn’t really his type.”

“So who’s this?” Josh nodded to Miroku who waited patiently behind Sango.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She stepped into Miroku’s arm as it draped around her waist, her own arms surrounding him. “Josh, this is my fiancé, Miroku. Miroku, this is Josh Carter, the guy who got me through calculus.”

The two men shook. “Wow, engaged, huh?” Josh let out a low whistle. “Damn. There goes my chances.” Sango and Josh laughed. Miroku gave a tight smile. “Seriously, though,” he said focusing on Miroku, “I had the biggest crush on Sango all through high school. You’re a damn lucky guy. Sango’s about the best there is. Except my wife, of course.” He winked. “Speaking of which, I’ve gotta make my way to the bar to see if they have any pineapple juice and pickles.” He made a face, grinning all the while. “Pregnant women have the weirdest tastes. I’ll see you two later. Sango, you’d better save me a dance.”

“Sure thing, Josh.” She waved as he headed off toward the bar.

***

Miroku studied Sango while she talked with Josh. She was obviously happy to see the guy and he seemed to be just as happy to see her again. From the way she had carried on over the past week, Miroku hadn’t expected their first encounter with one of her ex-classmates to be a happy one.

He instantly hated Josh. Under different circumstances he might have considered him to be an okay kind of guy, and he did try his best to be polite and smile. But he didn’t like the way Josh had looked at Sango as he’d approached, didn’t like the way he’d held her and twirled her about. Finding out that Josh was now married and apparently deeply in love with his wife, if his goofy smiles were any indication, wasn’t enough to ease the tight feeling in his chest.

He continued to study her as she waved good-bye to her old friend and then turned to him. God, he loved her smile. When she smiled, her entire being lit up like a beacon for others to follow. Her eyes glittered, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her whole body radiated with joy and happiness.

He must have been studying her a little too hard. Her smile almost instantly vanished and her expression turned to one of concern and confusion. “What’s the matter?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He pulled her closer and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. “I was just thinking,” he smiled, “of how beautiful you are when you smile.”

Her face lit up again, making his heart swell as well as other parts of his body. Pressed against him like she was, he could tell the moment she felt it. She blushed deeply.

“Miroku…”

“Hey! Taijiya!”

They turned to see a rather smug looking Inuyasha walking toward them. Sango stared at her best friend in something akin to amazement. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants with a white button up shirt, it was the most dressed up she’d ever seen him. He even had his shirt tucked in and buttoned. His hair was still worn long and he’d tied it back in a low ponytail.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there staring or are you gonna give me a proper greeting?”

She smirked. “Oh, but I wouldn’t want to wrinkle you, Inuyasha.”

“Keh. Whatever.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and scrutinized the both of them. “So. Who’s the suit?”

“Inuyasha, be nice.”

“I am being nice.”

**Ahh,** thought Miroku. **So he wants to play it like that, does he? Perhaps I’ve misjudged him. Maybe he does have feelings after all.** He extended a hand. “Miroku Misuteri. Pleased to meet you.”

Inuyasha looked at the outstretched hand as if he’d never seen one before. “Whatever.”

This was the true test. Convincing her girlfriends that Miroku was her fiancé would be the easy part. Convincing Inuyasha would be next to impossible. He’d been her best friend for twenty years. He knew her better than anyone else, had been through some tough times with her, her breakup with Naraku notwithstanding. Later she could tell him what was really going on, but if he were to discover their little game now it could be their undoing. Inuyasha was territorial and didn’t like people messing with those he considered family. Sango definitely fit in to that category, and if she knew him as well as she thought she did, he wasn’t about to make this easy for her.

**This is it.** Sango mentally braced herself for what she was sure would be a fight. “Miroku’s my fiancé, Yash.”

He blinked. “Fiancé? You never told me about any fiancé.”

“Well, I… wanted to keep it a secret. I was going to tell you but… Hey! What are you even doing here, anyway? You swore last week that you wouldn’t be caught dead at this thing.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, turns out I had to come. They want me to make some sort of speech or something. And don’t change the subject.”

“Attention! Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

Their focus shifted to the front of the room where a woman in a white dress stood behind a podium, her face leaning into the microphone. “Thank you,” she said, her voice as cheery as her smile. “On behalf of myself and the rest of the Planning Committee, I’d like to thank you all for joining us tonight at our ten-year reunion of William Downing-Baker High School, class of 1995. Just a reminder to those of you who reserved a room in the hotel when you sent in your RSVP that in order to claim your room, you must check in before midnight. After that, it’s first come, first serve. Now,” she grinned, “with that out of the way, I’d like you all to join me in welcoming our class president up here.”

The room erupted in applause. Inuyasha sighed and looked mournfully at Sango. “Remind me later to hate you for signing me up for that behind my back…and running my campaign for me…and helping me win….”

Sango grinned, clapping with the rest of the room. “If it’s any conciliation, I got an ‘A’ in that class.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, great.”

As her best friend reluctantly pushed through the crowd, Sango turned back to the man who’s arms were still wrapped around her waist, laughing at the perplexed look on his face.

“*He* was class president?” Miroku asked, astonished beyond belief.

“Shocking, isn’t it?”

“To say the least.” He watched as *his* best friend stepped up to the podium and patiently waited for the crowd to quiet on their own accord. “How the hell did you manage *that*?”

“It was for my government class.” At his confused look, she continued. “For one of our projects my junior year, we had to either prove or disprove something about democracy. I based my project on the myth that the taller candidate was most likely to win an election. Yash is a good six inches taller than the person he ran against. He won by almost thirty percent of the vote. Proving once again that personality has as much to do with winning an election as the platform does.”

He raised a dark eyebrow, having trouble picturing Inuyasha winning the heart of the people. “And exactly what platform did you have to run on to get him elected?”

“That was the kicker. We ran the exact same platform the other guy did. Believe it or not, Inuyasha can be very personable at times. We also had a huge voter turnout that year. Seems he appealed to more than just the yuppies at our school.”

By this time, the crowd had quieted enough for Inuyasha to be heard over the roar. They turned to listen and Miroku found himself fascinated by the way Inuyasha held the crowd rapt.

“Yo. So…we’re all here. Some of you, I don’t remember. Some of you, I never knew in the first place. But most of you, I purposely erased from my memory after we graduated.” A ripple of laughter went through the crowd. “So, I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to expound on the great accomplishments everyone’s made in the past ten years, but since I don’t care and I’m the one with the microphone, I’m just gonna say whatever the hell I want.” He surveyed the crowed, a mischievous gleam in his golden eyes. “I spiked the punch. Drink up, bitches.”

He exited the stage with a kind of grace as the crowd roared with laughter and applause behind him. Miroku looked around the room, noting that only a few of the guests were eyeing their punch suspiciously. Most were taking huge gulps. He could tell which had voted the insane man into office.

He found himself forming a new found respect for his old college roommate.

***

Two hours later, Miroku watched, fascinated, as Sango flawlessly held up the game. She’d been spirited away by a group of women he assumed were her girlfriends from high school not twenty minutes before and was handling the barrage of questions like a seasoned pro. Though he couldn’t hear what was being said, the frequent glances in his direction told him just as surely as if he had been standing right there.

Inuyasha came to stand beside him, offering him a cup of punch. He took it, sipping experimentally.

“I see you spiked this batch as well,” he commented.

The other man shrugged. “You wouldn’t have thought those first three bowls would have gone so fast. Good thing I brought plenty of liquor.”

“Yes. A very good thing.”

The two men stood in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the women talk and sipping their spiked drinks. “So,” Inuyasha asked lazily, “what story did you guys come up with?”

“A mutual friend hooked us up on a blind date. We’ve been together six months. She didn’t tell anyone about the engagement because she wanted it to be a surprise.”

“And what you do for a living?”

He braced himself. “I’m a professor of theology at a university in Nebraska.”

The silence was almost deafening as Inuyasha stared at Miroku. He burst out laughing, almost falling to the ground in his merriment. The blue eyed man rolled his eyes at his friend’s amusement.

“You!?” Inuyasha could hardly contain himself. “A professor?! Oh, that’s freakin’ hilarious!”

He smirked, an almost cruel smile on his lips. “Not any funnier than you being class president.”

Inuyasha sobered instantly. “If you tell anyone about this, Bouzu…” He left the threat hanging in the air, his point clear nonetheless.

“I’m surprised,” Miroku said changing the subject, “that you haven’t been questioning Sango as harshly as the others have. You being her best friend, I would have expected a little more out of you.”

“She’ll tell me what’s really going on later, after the reunion. She’s got enough to worry about from those vultures,” he gestured to the crowd surrounding her, “without having to worry about what I have to say about it.”

“But won’t she be curious to know why you haven’t been giving me the third degree or grilling me to see if I’m really worthy of her?”

“Keh. I already know the answer to that question, Bouzu.”

Miroku stared at his best friend of eight years, curious at his choice of words.

“Uh oh. Here comes the interrogation committee.”

Miroku followed his line of sight to see the group of women coming toward them, sans Sango. Their stony faces were directed at Miroku. He shivered. “You’re with me on this, right?”

“Screw that. You’re on your own with this one, man.”

“Traitor,” he mumbled under his breath as Inuyasha slipped away into the crowd. To the women he presented his most charming smile. “Hello, ladies,” he said as they stopped in front of him.

The leader of the group, a red head in a knee-length black dress gave him a thorough once-over. She crossed her arms below her breasts and met his eyes dead on. “I’ll just get right to the point,” she said. “Sango’s a good girl and one of my good friends. I don’t buy her story about wanting to keep your engagement a surprise, not for a second. I think she’s hiding something. But for her sake, I’m willing to let it slide. She wears her heart on her sleeve and it’s pretty obvious she cares about you. She was jerked around pretty bad by that asshole, Naraku, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening to her again.”

Perhaps a bit on the overprotective side, but Miroku admired their loyalty. “I assure you, ladies, that I have no intention of ever causing Sango any emotional pain. My only wish is to make her happy for as long as she’ll let me.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “That may be your intention, but tell me, *Professor*,” she said mockingly. “Sango’s a sweet and gentle woman. She needs a man, not just another boy looking for free treats. Tell me, what exactly do you think *you* can bring to this relationship?”

“Wow. You hire people for a living, don’t you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Well, for one thing, I love her.”

***

A/N: duhn duhn duhn! …