[Disclaimer: The rumors are true. I really don't own Inu-Yasha. Or a book I read years ago that I think was called Janine and Alex, which served as the springboard for this story.]

[Summary: AU. A job is a job. Except when the job involves Kagome being paid to masquerade as her employer, Kikyo, and having to deal with all the messy details of her life that she failed to mention. Like stalkers and ex-boyfriends.]

Faking It

Chapter 1

The Price of Beauty

by Bikutoria

~+~

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."

-Thomas A. Edison

~+~

Kagome sighed to herself, eliciting glares from the pedestrians surrounding her. Here she was, in the city she despised, dragging herself from interview to interview, only to hear the words she dreaded: "not appropriate." Whether it was her lack of relevant experience or her lack of an education, the girl realized she was banging her head against a very low ceiling. But at least in this city of millions of people (and jobs) her odds were better than just looking around her suburban neighborhood. Which is why she was here, waiting for the sign to light up green so she could move along with the others and make her way to whatever meeting she had lined up next.

Something needed to change.

~+~

"Kikyo." The woman driving the limo was trying to attract her employer's attention away from whatever random person she was blathering on to on her miniscule cellphone. She knew Kikyo hated being interrupted, but Kikyo had also set another priority above even that.

"Kikyo," she repeated as she abruptly brought the limo to a halt. That got her attention.

"What?" she snapped, one perfectly manicured finger immediately disconnecting the phone call without so much as a goodbye.

"I see one. To your right, waiting at the crosswalk."

Kikyo struggled in vain to see between the mass of people for this girl. Unable to, she said, "Retrieve her. But this one better be more appropriate than the last one." She shuddered slightly at the memory. "If you really thought that hideous girl could have passed for me…"

Sango, not replying, simply shifted the gear to park and stepped out to speak to the girl she had just seen. The one that looked exactly like Kikyo.

~+~

Kagome was drawn out of her private pity party by a nearby commotion. A limo, it seemed, had parked in the middle of the street. A woman emerged from the driver's seat, casually dressed in black pants and a well-fitting hot pink shirt. The oddest thing about the situation was that the driver seemed to be walking straight towards Kagome.

Brows furrowed, Kagome forgot all about her job search and crossing the street. Instead, she waited for this woman to come right up to her.

"My name is Sango," she said. "And my employer would very much like to talk to you."

"Eh?" Kagome face turned panicked as all sorts of thoughts ran through her head. "Your boss…he's not…what for?" she finished lamely.

The woman, who had at first seemed somewhat imposing to Kagome, suddenly laughed. "Oh, he's a she. She just wants to talk to you and see if you're appropriate for a job she needs to fill." Still seeing the uncertainty of the other girl, Sango added, "She works in the modeling industry."

Kagome was silent for a moment, processing the likelihood of all this. This was not the first time she had been approached based on her looks; but usually, people assumed she was already a certain well-established model who was wildly popular a few years ago. And even then, the people who approached her were usually less-than-savory men well past their thirties. If this lady's boss was a woman, then it certainly cut down on the likelihood that the offer was less than legitimate. Maybe it was a sign…appropriate. It wasn't everyday limos stopped in the middle of the street and the people inside offer a job just when she was in desperate need of one.

Kagome wanted to work with her mind, not her appearance. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Choking back her pride, Kagome decided to find out more. "All right. I'd like to hear what she has to say."

Sango nodded, relief flooding her. Now that she had a closer look at her, she knew this girl was perfect. She lead her to the limo, stopping to open the door for her. Kagome gave her one last uncertain looking before ducking into the vehicle and awkwardly seating herself.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the lighting. A woman was sitting adjacent to her, looking almost unreal with her perfect posture and hands elegantly folded in her lap. Kagome's jaw went slack as she recognized the woman; Kikyo, the model she had been mistaken for over the years.

Kikyo smirked at her uncouth reaction. "I suppose I do not need to tell you my name, hm?" She had an expectant look on her face.

Kagome realized this was her cue to introduce herself. "My name is Kagome Higurashi…and you're Kikyo." The model nodded, pleased with her fame. "When your driver said you worked in the modeling industry, I did not think she meant you were a model."

Sango, back in the driver's seat, began shifting through the city's snail-paced traffic. Kikyo did not bother to lift the partition between the two compartments. Kikyo chose to ignore Kagome's awestruck attitude and steered the conversation in another direction. "Are you the girl who turns down the job offers meant for me?"

Kagome blinked, unsure of how to continue. Several times over the past few years – since Kikyo's rise to fame – she found herself in unusual circumstances where she was mistaken for the celebrity. For some, like star struck suburban people who were thrilled at the thought that they were meeting a living, breathing celebrity, she played along and even politely handled their requests for autographs.

But for others…she usually politely told the random men who came up to her with promises of job offers and contacts that she was not, in fact, Kikyo. If they didn't believe her, they became irate. And if they did, they were still irate, but more confused. Kagome grimaced, realizing that if Kikyo had heard about these events, then surely these men had been the ones to tell her. She wondered what sort of answer this striking woman wanted from her; her mind failed to come up with a suitable solution, so she determined that honesty would have to be the best policy.

"Yes."

Kikyo tipped her head back and laughed gaily. "You confused them to no end. They could not understand why I would turn down offers my agent had been working for weeks – sometimes months – to nail down."

Kagome gulped nervously. "I hope I didn't ruin anything for you…I didn't know! I thought they were just…"

"Dirty old men? They probably were. But that is of no matter," she swept her hand in the air, as if to clear out that topic. "Since I heard that there was someone running around looking like me, I had always been very interested in finding you. I'd like to offer a job."

Kagome, reassured that this powerful woman was not holding some sort of grudge against her for accidentally ruining some sort of business deal, distractedly inquired, "What sort of job?"

"To take my place. To stay in my hotel suite, to attend my business functions – nothing significant, just appearance fees usually – and to keep the public eye focused on you."

Kagome was shocked. This woman wanted to give her the opportunity to basically live her life for her? To stay in her glamorous hotel room, rub elbows with the most famous and talented people in the world – and she would pay her? Kagome narrowed her eyes, wondering what the catch must be. "You would pay me to do this…"

Kikyo replied, "Naturally. Does $1,000 a day sound fair to you?"

That much was enough to pay off most of her bills for the month, and that was just one day's work! The stunned girl inquired, "How many days…er, how often will you be requiring my services? If I were to agree, that is," she rushed out with, not wanting to seem too eager.

"Immediately, if you please. I have a few minor engagements that require me to be in the city this week that I have no desire to bore myself with. So for the next seven days, I suppose. If you perform satisfactorily, perhaps we could reach an arrangement for the future. I would leave Sango—" she gestured to the driver, "with you. She is my driver, bodyguard and personal assistant, and would help you orient yourself to acting as me. By the way, where are you heading right now?"

"Uh…the train station." Bodyguard? Kagome fleetingly wondered what sort of activities the model would encounter that would require a bodyguard before being overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all. All she wanted to do was take the train home, curl up in her warm old armchair and take time to absorb this all.

Kikyo, nodded, and ordered, "To the train station, Sango." Moving on as though Kagome had already accepted, eyed her new employee. "The body's perfect, the skin color is right, the hair…We'll call Jakotsu." She leaned forward till she was practically nose to nose with Kagome. "And call the optician. We'll need blue contacts for those gray eyes of yours." Kikyo settled back into her seat. "The voice is passable – most people in the business have not spoken to me personally, anyway, and those who have pay attention to assets other than the sound of my voice. You may be shorter than me, also. You'll just have to make certain to wear high heels."

Kagome gulped, remembering how much she detested formal footwear. "Actually, I don't own high heels."

Kikyo smirked. "I'll provide you with your wardrobe. Footwear and all. You'll be staying in the hotel suite my agency has kindly provided me with for my time in the city and you will have access to the clothes all the designers scrambled to have made for me for the season."

"I haven't even agreed to do this…I don't even know that I can do this!"

"You'll be fine." Kikyo repeated her sweeping gesture from earlier. "Do you accept?" She arched one perfectly waxed eyebrow, as though daring Kagome to turn down the opportunity.

Kagome sighed internally. Think of the money. Think of not having to ask Mom for help. "All right," she heard herself say. "I accept."

"Good." Kikyo handed her a business card. "Be there tomorrow at precisely 9AM, and bring whatever personal effects you may need that won't be provided."

They sat in silence for the remainder of the ride to the train station; Kagome, consumed by astonishment and Kikyo, consumed by plans for the next seven days.

~+~

Kagome opened one bleary eye to read her alarm clock: 7:31 AM.

"Ack!" she exclaimed, jumping out of bed. She was lucky to have woken up that early naturally. Clearly, she had forgotten to set her alarm; this was indicative of the awful relationship Kagome had with alarm clocks. She hopped in and out of the shower, pulled a tie in her hair before quickly throwing on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. She set a bag on the bed of her studio apartment and began filling it with her "personal effects." The clothes a model would provide certainly would not be at the same comfort level as what Kagome was accustomed to; so, for the times when no one would be watching her as Kikyo, she packed a few comfortable skirts and shirts. She tossed in a few books and her sticker-clad CD player for whatever downtime she had. Fingering her CD collection, Kagome selected a few random CDs and her constant standby, the self-titled debut album "Raging Demons." Despite being five years old, that album was one she could always listen to whenever she wanted to exorcise whatever feelings she was struggling with.

"All right, mental checklist," she said to the room. "Plants can fend for themselves for a week. Buyo—" she turned to the plump calico enjoying a warm spot of sunlight on the floor, "Ayumi said she would stop by and pick you up for the week. And I've got my bag…so I guess that's it." She still felt uncertain, but chalked it up to the unreality of the situation. She grabbed her trusty cell phone and sprinted out the door to catch the 8AM train to the city.

~+~

Kagome found herself gaping at her surroundings. She was standing in the lobby of The Grand Hotel, and she could only think how well the name suited it. She was so distracted she did not even notice as she bumped into one of the quests, a tall man with long dark hair and flashing violet eyes. Without looking at him, she murmured an apology. Realizing she should not draw attention to herself, she lowered her sunglasses and shut her mouth as she made her way to the elevator.

She did not notice that the man she had bumped into was still staring after her.

~+~

He continued watching her, unsure of what had just happened. Sure, it had been five years. Sure, it had only been an intense three week long relationship. Sure, she hadn't even looked directly at him just now. But he knew it was her, and cursed his luck at his agency putting him in the same hotel as her.

Had she actually apologized for bumping into someone? If memory served correctly, that was unusual.

Maybe it wasn't her. Kikyo never dressed so…informally.

Shaking his head, Inuyasha continued out of the lobby of the hotel he had only just checked into that morning, on his way to an appointment with his agent to determine the course of his "reintroduction" publicity week.

~+~

From the dark lacquered wood to the geometric-inspired furniture, the place screamed money. The elevator doors slid open, and Kagome stepped inside. She flipped over the hotel business card Kikyo had given her the day before to look at the handwritten note on the back: PH2. Frowning at the elevator panel, she pushed the likely-looking PH button and soon emerged into a foyer for the penthouse…make that penthouses. Dismissing the door labeled PH1, she approached the only other door in the landing. It has a doorbell? Wondering how large the "suite" must be to require a doorbell, her question was soon answered when Sango opened the door.

"Good morning!" Sango chirped. Then, in a more subdued tone, said, "Thank goodness you're on time."

"Eh? Why, is punctuality that important to her?" Kagome knew that Sango would understand she was referring to the employer they now had in common.

Sango smiled and said good-naturedly, "Only other people's punctuality." She gestured for the girl to come inside, where she was again awed by her surroundings.

This second foyer she was in was decorated in muted blues and off-whites with the same dark lacquered wood from the lobby. Her common sense was telling her that white was impractical, but her eyes were just registering how lovely the color scheme worked throughout what she could see of the living room and kitchen. She was tempted to pinch herself, understanding that this was where she would be staying for the next several days. She grinned at the absurdity of it all; it was like a paid vacation.

A paid vacation where she would only have to see her boss on the first and last day. She quickly pulled herself together as Kikyo stepped into the room; Kagome regretted her relaxed choice in clothing as Kikyo gave her a quick appraising look.

"The optician is here to see you first. Jakotsu is setting up in the boudoir, and then we'll prep you for this week's schedule." After saying this, Kikyo promptly walked through the archway leading to the kitchen.

Kagome shot Sango a quizzical glance, and was rewarded with a smile and a "this way" motion. She followed her through the opposite archway into the living room and was greeted by the optician Kikyo had summoned. After determining her eye measurements, Kagome was forced to try several different contacts before her audience was satisfied the color matched the picture of the eyes they were trying to correspond them with.

"Ow…" She rubbed her eyes, already tired just from the pain of learning how to put on contacts and then testing out the knowledge several times over. Why were they using a picture to judge when the actual set of eyes were just a few rooms away? "Did we get it this time?"

Sango nodded sympathetically. "Yup. This time we got it. But we'll need to get you some whitening eye drops if your eyes are going to react to the contacts like that." With that, Sango directed Kagome to the boudoir while she escorted the affable optician out.

The boudoir was a room unto itself. The same high, vaulted ceiling and color scheme existed, but the walls were all mirrors. A perky, effeminate man introduced himself as Jakotsu and indicated she should sit down. Kikyo sauntered into the room and air-kissed with the stylist.

Turning to Kagome, she said, "Jakotsu is the only one I would trust for this. He's fiercely loyal to those he considers his friends."

Jakotsu laughed, "Only for you, Kikyo, would I do house calls."

"And any of your favorite male clients, I'm sure," she quipped back in return.

The pleasantries over with, they both began eyeing Kagome as though she were a work of art that needed major renovations.

"The bangs are a bit elementary," she said, eyeing the girl's raven head of locks. "If you cut them so she can sweep them to the sides, it will take the focus off them. As for the rest of it, with that nice slight wave to it, just do a few layers to bring out the shine and body." The hairdresser nodded enthusiastically, as though this were Kikyo's area of expertise and not his own.

Elementary? "But…your hair is longer than mine." Kagome summoned up her nerve to speak despite all the comments. If she thought about it, they almost seemed like insults. So she chose not to think about it.

Jakotsu had already begun his work, but provided some insight into this. "Honey, you don't want to go the extension route. There is too much work to do here, and too little time!" Recognizing the nervous look on her face, he stepped back for a moment and looked her mirror image in the eye and held up his scissors for her to inspect. "Don't fret sweetie, my trusty Jakotsutou scissors here haven't failed me in all the years I've been styling hair."

Kikyo, her attention back on her magazine, said in an absentminded voice, "Just tell people you wanted a change. When I return, I'll say I came to my senses and went with extensions."

All right, that was definitely an insult. Or is Kikyo really just that self-involved? To not notice she was slighting the people around her was a dangerous way to go through life. However, it stands to reason that people a rich, famous model gives a woman an amazing set of armor for deflecting the consequences.

Kagome eyed her employer's reflection in the standard salon mirror before her. Kikyo was seated gracefully on a chair one of the hairdresser's minions had rushed to bring over for her so that she could oversee the transformation process. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and her posture was perfect due to her holding up the magazine instead of laying it across her lap like the average person. Her hair was glossy, her complexion perfect – she did not even seem to be wearing make-up. How could the former Revlon spokesmodel not be wearing make-up? Deciding she did not know enough about the matter to deduce whether or not Kikyo's complexion really was that amazing, the girl's gaze drifted to the clothes. Strappy sandals, red capris, and some sort of white blouse. Described that simply, it sounded like an outfit any woman might wear. But for reasons Kagome was not skilled enough to identify, the outfit was Definitely Designer. The high-heeled shoes had delicate colored stones lining the red straps. The capris had detailed embroidery running on parts of it, so difficult to see because it had been done in the same color as the material. What was the sense in that, Kagome wondered. And the blouse…even though she could not identify it, she knew it was not the everyday cotton.

At least the hair color is right, Kagome thought to herself. But she was proven wrong when the hairdresser, finished with the cut, smeared heavily scented "organic rinse" on her hair to bring out the "natural highlights." While they were waiting for the rinse to take hold, Jakotsu attacked her nails with various lethal-looking metal instruments. Each time she jerked with pain and tried to pull her hand away, Jakotsu would giggle shrilly. "Darling, you have got to sit still. These half-bitten nails just won't do!"

Once the acrylics had been applied, she peeked around to make sure Kikyo had left to led Jakotsu and his staff out. Kagome examined them, wondering how long they would last with her occasional nervous habit of biting her nails. They looked pretty strong… "Ow!" she cried, after foolishly giving a firm tug on one of her new extensions to test its adhesive.

"Tried pulling on them, didn't you?" Sango grinned, popping her head into the room.

"How could you tell?"

Sango held out her own bright pink manicured fingers. "As a representative of Kikyo, I must maintain a certain professional image." Dropping the formal tone, she admitted, "When I first got them, I tried pulling 'em off, too. Come on, the aesthetician is set up in the other room to give do your waxing, and then Kikyo will be ready for you in the Closet."

Kagome's eyes went wide as saucers.

"Waxing?"

~+~

"KYAAAA!"

Miroku was jerked out of his meditation by the sound of a young woman screaming in the next suite over. His instincts told him to go rescue the damsel who sounded so clearly in distress, but then her stopped to listen to the still-shouting girl.

"STOP…the DAMN…WAAAAAAAXING!"

Deciding there actually was a situation where he would not want to see a woman in a state of half-dress, Miroku turned up his relaxation music and waited for Inuyasha to return.

~+~

"Ow…"

Sango was trying her best not to burst out in laughter, but was failing miserably.

"Hehe…you've never…haha…gotten a wax before?" she snorted in amusement.

Kagome made a displeased face before asking irritably, "Have you?!"

Sango stopped laughing immediately. "No." Her thoughtful face changed into a wicked grin. "It's not in my job description."

Her legs, her eyebrows, her underarms, anywhere that sadist aesthetician deemed needing hair removal, was now smarting something awful. And some places hurt worse than others. The price of beauty… Kagome gave a small "hmph" sound and continued awkwardly following her new-found friend to the Closet.

Pain momentarily forgotten, Kagome gazed at the sheer quantity of…stuff. Kikyo was waiting for the pair in a room that rivaled the boudoir in size. Racks and racks trousers and shirts and skirts and shoes and purses and totes, all arranged by color, from reds and yellows to greens and blues…

Kikyo gestured to an outfit and ordered, "Try this one on. I think we're the same size, so most anything in the Closet should fit you; but let's make certain."

After changing into the provided outfit and shoes (curse those high heels), Kikyo began tugging this way and that way on the material, pausing to stare at Kagome's eyes and hair cut one final time.

"It works."

With that approval, Kagome tottered over to see her reflection. She looked at the final result in the full-length three-way mirror. She sucked in her breath at what she saw. Kagome looked like a more polished version of herself…like she was older…like she was more sophisticated…like she was Kikyo.

She wondered how much all of this had cost…opticians making house calls, stylists with entourages. Probably more than Kagome made in a day, which was now saying a lot.

"Now let's discuss the agenda." The three women settled themselves around a table in the dining room. Sango had a large day planner splayed out in front of her, and she handed copies of the condensed schedules to both Kagome and Kikyo.

"The basic purpose of the events you'll be attending are for the press and upper society to have me fresh in their mind when I make my official comeback next month as the signature model in the Yohji Yamamato spring campaign. My career calmed down when I decided to take time off a year ago – and now it's time for me to get back in the game," Kikyo's face contorted for a quick moment, almost a grimace, gone as quickly as it came. "These are just appearances, mind you – people see me about town and showing up at a few important social functions, then they'll be more likely to talk about me come next month. No one will expect you to talk much or stay very long – I'm not known for either."

Kagome, understandably, still felt nervous despite the new knowledge. "What about people who know you well – how will I recognize them, or even respond appropriately?"

"Sango will point out important people for you to greet. Aside from that, I really do not have any close friends for you to be concerned about, and my business contacts are never much interested in chatting anyway."

How sad…

Kikyo ignored the pitying look on Kagome's face and turned back to the paper before her. "Let's see…" she muttered, scanning the condensed schedule. "Tomorrow is Tuesday, and there is a launch party for some new musical act my agency is touting. Wednesday is a photo shoot for Celebrity magazine spread next month to promote stars making their returns to fame."

"A photo shoot?" Kagome squeaked. "Kikyo, I have no idea what to do at a photo shoot. Someone will spot an amateur who is supposed to be a pro!"

"Nonsense." Again the older woman waved her hand through the air. "Sango will be with you to tell you who is who. Kotatsu is the photographer – just do exactly as he says, or else he'll have a fit. You'll be expected to attend the opening of the new restaurant Anis on Friday…but nothing is on the schedule for Saturday. Whenever you find yourself with free time, like on Saturday, just go about the city as me. Try not to do anything too provincial, and try to let yourself be photographed. Likewise, do not turn down invitations from important people – Sango will let you know who those people are."

Confusion evident in her voice, Kagome asked, "Shouldn't Saturday be a busy day for you?"

Kikyo just gave her a withering look for her ignorance while Sango mouthed the words 'Too cliché' to her.

Oh.

"Sunday is some society girl's birthday bash, Monday is the Tongue and Groove club opening and Tuesday I return and you go back to your life."

Normal life would be so boring after this.

~+~

Kikyo was surrounded by her Louis Vuitton suitcases the bellhops were struggling to transport as Sango and Kagome stood nearby to see her off.

"Don't forget, everything – including your paycheck – hinges on you not letting anyone find out your true identity. Call if you think you can't handle it. And I do not want you to have to call me," Kagome said in a commanding tone.

"Where is it you will be going? If I may ask," Kagome added hastily.

"An ashram, or spiritual retreat, out in the desert."

Was it Kagome's imagination, or was Sango trying to hold back laughter again?

"Well…" Kagome hesitated, her employer, and the woman whose life she was supposed to be emulating for the next week, was about to leave. "Is there anything else you can think of I should know?"

Kikyo paused just as she was about to shut the door.

"No."

~+~

[A/N: Right! So...let's not kill me for not having much Inuyasha in this chapter, shall we? Because if you do, then I cannot finish this story, and we wouldn't want that.

Anyyyyway, I pretty much know where I want to go with this story - I want more comedy, and I want to figure out a good side story for Sango and Miroku. Yes, yes, there will be fluffy moments for our main couple. Heh, so the problem with my aspirations is that I've never written comedy, and I can't think of a good side story for Sango and Miroku. But I promised LaraWinner it would involve sake bombs. Any ideas, people?

As always, pretty please, review - constructive criticism, advice, and bribes always accepted.]

[Shameless Plug of the Day: Starbreak by CelesteSpring [story id: 1442866, user id: 368869]. Oh my. Right, so if you think her fic is just another AU about werewolves, you'd be wrong. Very wrong. Stick with it – the perspective is kind of stream-of-consciousness in the beginning, but there's a good reason for it. And so far, she's updating frequently, making for very happy readers.