Head Over Heels

Alternate Universe, Kagura works in a book store and falls, literally, over the man of her dreams. But he's jerk so who wants him? Certainly not her, right? Starring Sesshomaru & Kagura, also some Sango/Miroku and maybe Inu/Kagome.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha or any of the associated characters but if I did Iz the hedgehog would throw a killer New Years Eve Party and invite everyone!

One: Head Over Heels


Kagura:

I stood on the fifth step of the wooden book ladder reaching for an impossibly high copy of Bunnicula. I was cursing the earlier morning version of myself; the woman who'd woken up with the idea that today a knee length skirt and a kicky pair of heels was the way to go.

I felt the above mentioned heels wobble under me as I leaned forward on my toes. Steven Madden, I was his slave and it was his fault I was teetering in his shoes on a book ladder stool for some snot nosed kid. The ladder was on tiny wheels and I felt it slide down the carpet ever so much.

The boy's mother, a skinny worried thing, put her knuckles to her lips as she watched my fingers brush the spine of her son's elusive book. "Are you sure that's safe?"

My forehead wrinkled. Hell no this wasn't safe, but of course it hadn't occurred to her to notice this before I scaled the ladder in these stupid heels. I pulled the thin paperback book free and tossed it to the kid. "Here!"

His hand snapped up and he caught it.

Bravo!

I was impressed; there might be more to this boy than I had first given him credit for.

My glasses slid down the sweaty bridge of my nose and I decided to make contact with the alien mother woman. "That's a wonderful book. It's about a rabbit that sucks the juice out of carrots. He's a bunny-vampire." Why was I wasting my time offering this information to her? It'd only upset her. And guess what, I was right.

She frowned and her forehead wrinkled in a particularly unflattering way. "Charlie was this really on your class reading list? It sounds morbid." She plucked the book from his hand and began busily reading the synopsis on the back cover.

He popped his gum and answered in a bored voice, "Yeah mom." Poor kid, he had to live with this woman.

I carefully climbed down the ladder, taking care each heel was firmly planted on a step before taking the next rung. "Really Mam, it's okay. It's a neat book and well written too."

I turned back to face the shelf and she spoke to the back of my head. "I just don't know…. but as long as it isn't like those horrible Harry Potter books…then I guess its okay."

Oh no, she just didn't say that!

Why do so many parents think that reading a thick book that uses some Latin words was going to turn their kid into a die hard Satanist? I let go of the ladder rail and pointed into the air. "Anything that gets kids to read is good; I think Potter's got a bad rap. And did you see the latest movie? I took my cousin and it rocked!"

I didn't have to be looking at her to see the expression that no doubt accompanied her, "Humph!"

I was still on the third step and my glasses were on the verge of tumbling off my face. I pushed them up then made a grab for the ladder rail. My hand slipped and I lost my balance. My foot twisted in the strappy high heel and I fell backwards.

My shoes caught on the edge of the ladder step and I was frozen in time impossibly balanced in a fashion reminiscent of the road runner and coyote. My arms moved of their own volition trying to reach out and catch a hold of the book shelf, the ladder or anything. If I could just rectify the situation now then it was just an awkward moment and not a complete disaster.

Of course no such luck for me. Maybe it was because I'd missed my morning glass of lukewarm V-8 and wasn't keeping my day straight. Maybe it's because I cared too much about the stupid semantics of parents who looked for any half cocked reason to hate a good book or it could have just been fate.

I still blame Steve Madden though, wicked man that he is. In fact I completely blame him for this and everything that followed in the subsequent days. Stupid shoe designer, had he become a common banker or lawyer than my life would have proceeded just as I planned it. But no, Madden had to design shoes that I just had to own so here we are.

I fell backwards from the ladder still a good three feet from the floor, my arms flailing uselessly in the air.

Great. Just great, I was going to land in a huge pile of hard backed Nancy Drew books, the kind with all those sharp corners. This was going to hurt my pride and my back, a lot. Thank God Bob Saget was nowhere in sight.

I fell in slow motion but I knew it was only my mind playing pranks on me. Even though the world was moving at the constancy of ketchup pouring from a glass bottle I never saw him move. He must have been standing behind the great pyramid of Nancy Drews and seen me stumble. Of course I shouldn't have been surprised. That over perky bitch blonde Nancy had never been a friend of mine.

The back of my head made contact with the point of his chin and my back slammed into his chest. He caught me against him and quickly slid his arms up under my legs carrying me ala Prince Charming.

My eyes squelched shut and when I felt safe I cautiously opened them. The first thing I noticed about him, besides the deep enveloping scent of some unnamed spice that clung to him, was his voice, cool and crisp.

"You fell." It was a simple statement, nothing more.

And you caught me. Umm… what do we say when nice men catch us? Oh yeah. "Thanks."

I wanted to say, you can put me down now but my lips refused to form the words. The heat from his head burned through the thin material of my skirt. His face hovered over mine, his lips dangerously close.

He continued to hold me much to my utter delight and mortification then gently admonished "You should invest in a pair of studier shoes."

What? Cracking on my Steve Maddens? His eyes were liquid gold and after one long look into them I was thinking, Madden who? "Yeah I should."

He helped me to my feet and I was finally able to get enough distance between us to get a good look at him. His face was striking, high cheek bones with purple stripes. His silver hair hung long and loose down his back.

I waited for an introduction but he provided none. Instead he gave a curt bow of his head and turned to leave.

What the hell is this? Does he think he can just rescue me in a style that would make even Sleeping Beauty drool, then walk out of my life forever? No way. I was not having this. He was all mine, he just didn't know it yet.

"Sir?" I called to his back. He was dressed in a white turtle neck and faded blue jeans. It was remarkable to see someone in the city wearing such light colored clothing. Most everyone else including myself favored chic black.

He stopped and looked at me from over his shoulder. "Yes?"

I fumbled badly, "Please, let me at least buy you a cup of coffee as thanks…"

"I don't drink coffee."

Okay strike one, everyone should drink coffee. People who don't need it are unnatural. "Tea then? We have green tea, jasmine and Earl Greyer…"

"No tea." But he just declined me not the tea so I could assume he drank tea but didn't wish to drink any with me.

But I am a complete idiot and went for strike three, "Hot cocoa then?"

He said nothing but swung around towards the door, that shimmering effeminate hair of his swaying behind him.

Oh. So that's how it is. I see. Well fuck him. With those features, tight jeans and that hair, he was probably gay anyway.

Of course this ongoing conversation was only taking place in my head which was good because such profanity would have lost me my job. Pity that. Oh well back to reality.

The boy's mother had the nerve to tug at my elbow. "Miss, Miss? Are you going to ring this up for me?"

I pasted a fake smile on my lips and took the book from her, "Certainly, follow me."

I led her to the cash register where I rung her up and was grateful to see her leave.


---

I was sitting back in the office chair with my bare feet propped up on the desk. The long register receipt was dangling in my hands. My drawer was five dollars short and I knew somehow it was connected to that damned woman.

Ugh. The boss was petty enough that he'd actually dock this from my check. Damnation.

"Kagura, are you back here?" Sango's voice resonated from the cramped hallway.

"Yeah just trying to find that stupid five dollars." I swung my feet off the desk.

Sango leaned against the door and pulled her long black hair free from the knot she'd tied it in earlier. "This Christmas rush is gonna kill me."

"Not as much as Miroku will kill me when he hears my drawer is off five dollars. Again."

Sango shook her head, "It isn't as bad as all that. I'm sure you'll be fine." Even though he hit on her continuously she still harbored some misguided idea that he was a nice guy.

"Maybe but still…" An idea hit me. "Hey you know how he likes you maybe you could tell him the bad news for me."

Sango rubbed the rear of her jeans. "And get pinched in the ass? No thanks, girlie you are on your own."

I pouted, "Some friend you are."

She laughed and tossed a white card on the desk. "Yeah I know. Hey this was left for you in the comment box."

I wanted to slam my head into the desk top over and over again. A near fatal fall, missing money from my till and a customer complaint, what else could happen? But I should have known better than ask that question.

Sango pushed the suspect envelope towards me. "Open it. I saw who left it and I think you'll want to read it."

Groaning I picked up the envelope and ripped it open. A simple card fell out. It was one of our standard comment cards. Elegant script flowed across the card.

To the woman in the dangerously short skirt and heels; buy some new shoes or you'll fall off that ladder. S

I crumpled the note in my fist and tossed it into the garbage can.

Sango pressed, "So? What did it say?"

I grinned up at her, "It says he is a confessed ass who wears white after Labor Day."

What a jerk and that note proved he was watching me before I even fell. What was that about? Did I have a hot and possibly gay yokai stalker?

Nah… My life was never that interesting.

Oh well, who cares? It's not like I'd ever see him again.

Right?

----

Notes:

And of course we all know Kagura's wrong! Stay tuned for updates and as usual reviews are appreciated. I've gone out on a limb here and am experimenting with the first person perspective.

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