Automatic Stop by Silver Standard Society
Chapter 1: How Sally met Harry and Tom then how Tom and Harry Met Each Other.
It began, as it usually did, with an “Oh, well maybe just one margarita.”
Which turned into a long island tea…
Which magically shrunk into a shot of vodka…
I’m sorry, five shots of vodka…
“You put the lime in the coconut…”
How she found herself dancing on the bar with everyone cheering her on, she had no idea. But Sango was laughing and girls were clapping and guys were cheering her on so what else could she do but…
“Drink it all up!”
And after she drank it all up…
She went tumbling down…
But he caught her.
And then some things happened across a certain span of time.
And a little later on it was time for…
If by some rare miracle she was going to survive today at work, she needed coffee.
Infused with Red Bull.
Made by the power of a pop singer’s energetic dance moves.
But the damn line in the coffee shop wouldn’t move and was queuing almost outside the door. Kagome leaned over in the line, shooting a glaring look to the person at the register.
“And do I want a biscotti?” the plump little man mumbled to himself. His fingers were round and thick like sausages. His little nose and fleshy cheeks practically leaned against the display case of treats. “Yes, I think I want a biscotti. Or maybe a scone? Ooh, yeah I’ll take the scone. Let’s see, what flavor…”
There was a collective groan passing down the line but as it reached Kagome, she leapt into action.
“Hey buddy!” she called, which is a universal fact that when someone called you ‘buddy’, you were actually not their friend.
“Low fat, sugar free, angel cake. You’ll thank me when you’re not dead in two years.”
She was a nice person, she really was…but only after being stabilized by caffeine.
The man turned around to face her with an angry glare but Kagome didn’t back down so with a huff he finished placing his order and moved aside.
Minutes later it was her turn to order and she wasted no time asking for extra espresso shots and a bucket of sugar.
What seemed like an eternity passed until finally the barista offered her a tall cup with her name hastily written across it.
Kagome happily grabbed it and turned for the door, being swept up by its’ pleasant aroma.
She stepped forward and just as she was about to joyfully sip the molten lava that was her drink, someone shouted out the vaguest warning you could shout in a barista shop.
…And Kagome’s foot slipped as she stepped into a spill.
She went down, her drink flying beautifully in the air in slow motion, never touched by her thirsty lips.
This time no one caught her.
But that was okay because there was a doctor in the room.
Sesshomaru didn’t really care for the preface of first dates.
The first step was the confirmation call which seemed more like an appointment than a date. Then there was the showing up part, with some small gift.
The gift part didn’t bother him.
Chocolate covered strawberries were both seductive and delightful. It was always a hit with first dates.
What bothered him was that the date was never ready to go just yet. Even though they confirmed the appointment date for a set time.
So now he had to sit on her couch, which wasn’t molded to his body and therefore uncomfortable, and stare at her cat who stared back with glinting eyes of mischief.
Sesshomaru hated cats.
They knew and they loved that about him.
The doorbell rang and it interrupted him from thoughts of kicking the soulless demon that was Kagome’s pet.
“Could you get that?” She called from the bedroom. “It’s probably Mrs. Matsuno from across the hall. She always wants a cup of sugar. Let her in, she can help herself to the kitchen.”
He stood from the foreign couch and lightly dusted off his suit before walking over and opening the door without bothering to ask who it was.
It wasn’t a woman…
Even though he had such long black hair it had to be pulled into a low ponytail.
“May I help you?” Sesshomaru asked politely.
He was wearing worn jeans, a leather wrist cufflet, and a slightly wrinkled brown shirt with some obscure logo across it.
“Yeah,” he said, wiping his thumb across his nose. “Kagome here?”
Sesshomaru hated those logo shirts. They always had some ambiguous saying on it like “Since 1876” but you couldn’t tell what or who it was doing what to whom since 1876.
“She’s getting dressed,” Sesshomaru answered. “I’ll tell her you dropped by, Mr.….?”
“I’ll wait,” he replied and tried to push past Sesshomaru, who wouldn’t budge, “Yeah…” he drawled. “Excuse me?”
“Who are you?” Sesshomaru asked, no longer interested in politeness or formality.
“I’m Koga,” snapped Koga, “Kagome’s husband. Who the hell are you?”
And with that irrefutable statement, Sesshomaru could finally come to terms with the fact that this indeed
Was not Mrs. Matsuno