Author's Note: Beware, dark lemon ahead. What's love got to do with it? Nothing in this chapter. Sometimes it's all about lust, pain & evil. If that's not to your taste, stop reading at the asterisks (*****), and continue after the next set of asterisks.

I'll have Lemonade, Please

By Fujifunmum

Chapter 5: What's Love Got to do With It?

Yash collapsed in Kagome's chair behind her desk. Well, she knew. And he was still breathing. He wondered if she would even remember that he had tried to tell her.

He looked out her window, out at the city lights. She was driving out there. Driving to his house. Or was she? She had said she was going home. Was she really going back to her place? Had she just taken his keys to punish him? He hoped she was going to his house. At least then he felt she would be safer. And he liked the idea of her thinking about what to do at his house. He had built that house for her. Wouldn't she feel that if she did her thinking there?

There was nothing more he could do about it tonight. She had made it very clear that he was persona non grata at the moment. He would work on Sango to help him tomorrow. He'd already told Sango what to do tomorrow. Until she ran the numbers and the policies, there really wasn't anything else he could do. That was the way this business worked. Not enough to do today, too much to do tomorrow.

He sent Sango an e-mail detailing exactly what needed to be done, reiterating what he had told Krista and her at the bar, and emphasizing the need for secrecy to assure their safety. He'd seen Sango leave with Miroku, so he knew she wouldn't be on line until tomorrow. He couldn't work on the case, and he couldn't do anything about Kagome tonight. He might as well take this time to figure out where he was going to stay.

He took the stairs down to the lobby and walked back to the parking garage where he had parked the Jag before going to Selene's. As he drove out, it just seemed like a good night for a drive. He didn't want to stay in a hotel in town if he could help it. And he wanted to stay at a place near Kagome so he could try to watch over her, but if she saw him tonight, well, it just couldn't happen. He took the freeway, and was a little surprised when he found himself on the Venice exit. He had driven this route for years, so he guessed it was a natural for him to drive it again without thinking.

As long as he was in Venice, he might as well go see Kaede. The last thing he needed or wanted was her advice, but if he didn't tell her about his predicament, then he could just make this a social visit.

Kaede was on the back deck, enjoying the evening sounds of the ocean. The waves were gently lapping at the shore, and it was quiet enough to hear both the waves and the crickets. He really did love this house. He was glad that Kaede was living here; he didn't want to sell it.

Somehow, she didn't seem surprised to see him. She motioned him to a chair beside her, and told him to help himself to a beer. He did, and they just sat, feeling comfortable with each other and the seashore for a while.

"You don't seem surprised to see me, BaBa."

"I'm never surprised at anything you do, Inu Yasha. We go back too far for that. How are you?"

"Keh."

"Did she tell you she was here today?"

Inu Yasha nearly dropped his drink. He was not one bit happy about this turn of events.

"What did she say? What did you tell her?"

"I shared a few simple facts about Dog Demons with her. And I tried to help her. She was very confused, not to mention angry, but I think it's possible she might forgive you. Hard to know for sure."

"She moved into the house. But she won't let me in."

"Hmm. That sounds like a good sign to me. You can stay here with me for a while if you'd like."

"Yeah, BaBa. I think I would. I feel the strong need to sit on the same beach with her, even if we are miles apart. By the way, did you tell her I spoke another language? She told me that it had been brought to her attention that English was not my first language."

Kaede took one look at Inu Yasha and began to laugh until tears began running down her face. She managed to choke out, "You'll have to ask Kagome."

Yash was pretty disgusted with the whole situation by now. Kaede laughing at him was not what he had in mind for this evening. Could things get any worse? He finished his beer and told Kaede he was going to sit on the beach for a while.

She was recovered enough to add one more comment before he left. "There's one more piece of bad news you need to know. She saw the picture. She's bound to ask about it once she calms down about your other lapse in judgment. While you are on the beach, you might consider how to answer those questions, too."

Shippo waited for about two hours at his computer terminal. He didn't have a computer at home, so he had to wait until Kagome contacted him. He had just finished a successful battle of Warcraft III when he got a pop-up IM message from Kagome. She was testing the bounds of instant messaging with the length of her message. It was a complete breakdown of all of the tasks they had done on this case, with re-assignments for staff to double check the work already done. Then there was a task force assignment for creative thinking and new avenues to explore. Their report was due within 24 hours. 24 hours from now, not 24 hours from when they got the assignment. In addition, she was calling in a financial expert to review the financial records of the deceased and his father. That report was also due within 24 hours. She had definitely lost it.

Shippo was to route the info to everyone, get the tasks assigned and coordinated, and act as a project manager for incoming reports. All tasks had to be reported and summarized and he was to read and summarize all of it for her and send her the results ASAP to her laptop. She would be in at 8 for the ass-kicking meeting as previously advertised. Shippo sent out all the notices, put hard copies on everyone's desk, organized his own notes for the next day, and took off for Badgers. He needed a drink after this day. And tomorrow would likely be worse.

*****

One of the many No Tell Motels in the worst part of LA had a surprisingly well-dressed customer. He paid cash, their favorite kind of money. Then he threatened bodily harm to anyone foolish enough to disturb him or his expected "guest".

Another fast fifty quickly secured the faithful promise to assure his privacy and see that the human litter in what passed for a lobby did not accost his "guest".

When asked for a description, the man merely laughed and said, "The most beautiful woman you'll ever meet, loser."

The key to the seedy room fit the lock loosely, like a good swift kick would open the door faster, and cleaner. Oh, yes, she would like this place. There were at least five different shades of paint on the walls. Topcoats peeling to reveal entirely incompatible undercoats, most of which had not been completely covered by the later sloppy attempts to decorate the space. And the hideous wallpaper. Flocked roses, how appropriate. Their scale was huge, and the colors paled and darkened depending upon how much the bare bulb overhead was swinging.

He tried the wall switch, but it didn't appear to be connected to anything. The overhead bulb worked with a narrow chain. And the stains. There were numerous stains on the well-worn wall-to-wall carpeting. Large mysterious irregular circles testifying to the past misdeeds performed in this squalor. Small splashes of pain engraved upon the carpet, extending to the walls. Flecks of darkness sprinkled over both, leaving the correct impression of resident evil.

The room was sparsely furnished. There was a sagging bed with a faded red velour cover. Just a little something to go with the peeling flocked wallpaper. There was a TV bolted to a table with no drawer. A small dresser stood in the corner, containing nothing but the remains of a torn Gideon bible. He smiled at the thought of what those torn pages had been used for. There was a small closet with one lone wire hanger. He used it to hang all of his clothes on. He didn't really want to put them down on any of the surfaces in this dump. They might be crawling with something when he retrieved them.

He pushed the bed over against the dresser and positioned the simple armless chair in the center of the room under the overhead bulb. He tested it for strength, and it's simple construction looked sturdy enough.

He opened his briefcase and took out the single sheet of paper she would demand. He placed it on the dresser, next to the bedside lamp. He put his briefcase in the closet, and closed the door. She wouldn't want any evidence of his presence. His body was enough.

It was time to prepare; she might be here soon. Or maybe she would make him wait. He had taken the room for the next twenty-four hours. That was pretty unheard of for this dump. He could have paid for only a few hours; she had never stayed with him for over an hour. But sometimes she made him wait.

He sat nude in the single chair in total darkness. If there was any light in the room, he knew she would leave immediately. It was one of her many rules of engagement. The total darkness allowed him to soak in the aura of the room. Stale smells of blood and urine were rampant. The scent of musk and mildew hung like a layer of decay over the place. It was perfect. Next to his own aura of evil, it was like the fresh breath of springtime.

She liked his current form. His handsome face was a stark contrast with the abundance of evil that she alone knew lay beneath. He didn't understand why she was helping him find it. He didn't care. He liked using any means necessary to further his goals, and if she could help him find the ultimate jewel, he was willing to do whatever she wanted in return. And what she wanted in return had brought him more pleasure than he had ever known in his sorry human existence. If she liked this room as well as he thought she would, he might rent it for a month.

He was lost in thought when he heard the first soft scratching at the lock. She eased the pick in and worked the mechanism in less than ten seconds. She liked to keep all of her skills sharp, and while she couldn't really surprise him, it excited him to hear her working her delicate fingers at the lock, seeking entrance where she knew he would be waiting.

She stood outlined in the doorframe for a long moment. Long enough for him to see what she was wearing. She had on a skin tight red bustier that laced up the front, her ultra short skirt appeared to be black patent leather, and her black boots with stiletto heels came up to her thighs. Her long black hair was plaited in a braid at the side of her head. His reaction to that braid was instantaneous. The blood pumping to his erection was burning and he began to sweat.

The last time he had seen her, almost three weeks ago, she had wrapped that braid around his neck to constrict his windpipe. The balance she had achieved between the airflow to his lungs and the hand job she was giving him had taken him to a whole new level of orgasm. Maybe he could get a six-month lease on this room.

The black fabric of her micro mini-skirt looked like patent leather. It couldn't actually be patent leather. That was for hard-toed little girl going to church shoes. And if it were patent leather, it wouldn't be clinging to the curve of her ass just like he could imagine his hands clinging to her. Not that she ever let him use his hands. He was not permitted to touch her without express permission. She had bound his hands shortly after she entered the room, like always. This time, she had used handcuffs. And she had woven the short links binding the pair of cuffs through the narrow slats on the back of the chair, so he was effectively cuffed to the chair with his hands behind him. That was new, but not unwelcome.

He could barely drag his eyes away from her ass to look at her face. She insisted he look at her face the entire time she was with him, or she punished him by leaving. She knew his eyes wandered to her breasts and her ass, but she ignored it as long as she could see him making a concerted effort to look her in the eyes. But that skirt was making it particularly difficult today. It was so short and so tight that it revealed every contour of her body. It was blatantly apparent that she had nothing on underneath it. Even a thong would have been outlined as it rode over her stomach and her hips. There was no outline of anything, except the mound of her pelvis if she arched backwards.

She had to know it, because she had arched slightly backwards, standing on her tiptoes, as she pulled the chain on the overhead light. Talk about in your face. It was the first thing she had done when she entered the room. She had turned on the light; hand cuffed him to the chair and then stood before him with her hands on her hips. She was wearing several narrow bands of black leather with studs around each of her wrists and a complex silver mesh chain around her slender throat. He salivated at the possible uses of those accessories. He never knew whether she would administer pain or pleasure. His eyes shone with rapt attention and anticipation.

His erection stood between them like an unadorned flagpole.

"Glad to see me? Where is it?"

He inclined his head toward the dresser. If he spoke, she would take the paper and leave immediately.

She walked to the dresser, turned on the light and read the entire page. She folded it up and put it into her pocket-sized purse that dangled from a long strap, taking out a pack of cigarettes and matches before tossing the purse on the dresser.

She turned off the lamp and moved the threadbare drape to peer out of the window.

"Why am I not surprised?" She muttered, as she shook her head and walked back to stand before him.

"Not bad for a lying sack of shit. You've delivered on your part of the deal; I'll deliver on mine tomorrow. Perhaps you have earned a small reward, ne?"

He started to smirk at her, but she backhanded his face with a studded cuff across his mouth as punishment. Smiling or smirking were not permitted either. She took out a cigarette and lit it with her matches, inhaling deeply. He hated it when she smoked, so she always smoked. She blew her exhaled smoke in his face and flicked the lit cigarette onto the bed.

"Let's see which one of us catches fire first."

Then she was on the move. She unlaced the top of her bustier, loosing her breasts. Next she hitched up her skirt enough to straddle his body. Then she sat down on his distended penis. She had never allowed this level of intimacy before. He decided to buy the building and keep it for their exclusive use.

"I've been wondering if this would work any better than my vibrator. Let's find out, shall we?"

And she reached down with both hands. She rocked forward and back slightly, pressing her left hand down on her lower abdomen until she liked where he was seated within her. Then she closed her eyes and reached down with her right hand to find her favorite spot. Her actions made it clear it was all about her pleasure, not his.

He could feel the play of her fingers between their joined bodies and it was inflaming his senses. She was leaning in to increase the pressure of her fingers, using him to reinforce that pressure and fan her own flaming need. He watched as her ardent fingers released the pressure on her abdomen to cup and caress her own breasts. Her fingers tugged at her nipples as the movements of her right hand increased and she arched her head back. Watching the pink flush of desire that crept over her body was almost painful.

He could feel the increase in her body heat as she worked her fingers rhythmically to her own meter. Her breathing became irregular and the veins in her neck stood out as her passion increased. The workings of her interior muscles were bringing him close to emission. He couldn't thrust within her as his body was demanding, but the clasping and clinging of her body surrounding him was enough, coupled with the closeness of her own passion. As she burst into orgasm, the tremors of her release brought him directly to the edge.

After only moments, she retrieved the cigarette from the bed, which was just barely smoldering and took a deep drag.

"I win," she said, blowing smoke in his face.

The she leaned into him, bringing his head down to a waiting and erect nipple. She whispered, "Meet me at the beach house at 5:30 tomorrow afternoon."

Then she came again as he sucked ravenously on her breast, arching into her as far as he could. His own release came as she reached around to extinguish her cigarette directly in the center of the spider design on his back.

*****

Palm trees suck.

Now he remembered why he missed Montana. Sitting on top of the Palm tree across the street from his beach house was definitely not his idea of a good time. He was toasting in the direct sun, and glad that he kept workout clothes in the Jag for unexpected trips to the gym. At least he wasn't up here in his Armani.

Fortunately, this tree was an old and mature one, so Kagome probably wouldn't see him when she left for the precinct. As long as she didn't look directly at him, crouching down on the crown of slippery leaves would mostly hide him.

It was almost 7:30 a.m., so he hoped he only had a few more minutes to stay up here. It was the only thing that kept him from swearing a blue streak and breaking down the door. He was tired. He was irritable, and climbing up this damn tree had made him itchy. If she didn't get out of there soon, he was going to barge in and take his own damn shower in his own damn house and she could just deal.

Kagome came out of the house, looking fresh and beautiful in one of her summer sheaths that conveyed the professional elegance she tried to foster in the precinct. This one was midnight blue, and set off the blackness of her hair, which was tied in an elaborate twist on top of her head. The wisps of hair escaping only enhanced her delicate features. Inu Yasha watched with pleasure as she got into her car and drove off.

She had slept at his house. Now he wondered if she had slept in his bed. And did she change the sheets? That ought to give him an indication of her state of mind.

He clamored down the palm tree, cursing California under his breath, and bounded over to the house. She wouldn't have had a chance to change the locks yet, so he knew his spare key would work. He was going to pack up enough clothes to last for a while and get his laptop.

But first, time to check out the bedroom. Kagome had stopped at her apartment long enough to get some of her clothes. The half of the large walk-in closet he had vacated for her was partially filled. And she hadn't thrown his clothes out or burned them in effigy. That was a good sign. He went to the bed and sniffed. Yep, his sheets, his Kagome and his baby. He felt better already.

He went off to the shower with a lighter heart. This was her fault anyway. He'd asked her to be his mate, what the hell else could she want? And this baby, well, that was a good idea, too. He just had to work a little harder to convince her of that.

Inu Yasha came out of the shower feeling much better about everything. He hadn't slept very well at Kaede's; he'd spent most of the night sitting on the beach trying to sort things out. Without much success. Sango and Krista wouldn't be at his office anytime before noon.

Maybe if he slept for a while he'd come up with a better solution. And then Kagome would be surrounded by his scent again tonight. He liked that idea a lot. She might not appreciate it consciously, but he was certain that on an intuitive level, she would somehow feel his presence. She had to.

Sango liked to get to work early. She got a lot done before the rest of the claims department arrived and that left her free to deal with the training and management parts of her job. Today was no different, except that she made it perfectly clear to everyone that she was working on the project from Hell and no one had better disturb her.

Krista arrived a little later and between the two of them, they were able to download and gather all of the data Yash had requested by noon. She told her co-workers she and Krista would be finishing up out of the office and together they carted everything over to Yash's office.

She took a cab and ordered a really nice lunch for the two of them. Let the idiot dog find his own food.

After Miroku had delivered the news, she was furious. Now she had simmered down to disbelief. But she couldn't avoid him today, this project had to be done now. She knew that Yash was working to keep her safe by insisting she come to his office with the records and Krista. However, she didn't have to be nice to him. She had a big enough mind to spare a large piece of it.

Inu Yasha arrived at his office just after noon. He was just in time to get Sango's call saying she and Krista were on their way.

"And get your own damn lunch, asswipe. And don't think I'm not going to express my own damn opinion about how you've treated my best friend. You are beyond pitiful. And did I mention that your official name from this day forward is Stupid Shithead?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get over here with those records and don't tell ANYONE what you are taking or where you are going! Remember Sango, no one."

This was going to be a very long afternoon.

Things weren't any better at the precinct. Kagome had handed them all their asses at the 8 a.m. meeting. Hardly anyone was in the precinct since Kagome had all of them doing triple duty cross checking each other's work and leaving no stone unturned in the search for any thread of new evidence to follow. The accountants were encamped in the conference room, interrupted by Kagome at regular intervals to demand results and reports. They began to beg her to give them the time they needed to review the records to see if there was anything to find. And Shippo stayed totally out of sight.

After the meeting he had disappeared into the crowd headed for the stairs, not to be seen again. The task force Kagome had appointed to brainstorm the crime were visiting the crime scene to try to creatively imagine what might have happened and why. Anything was better than staying under her watchful bullying attention.

Kagome made an appointment with her ob/gyn, Dr. Brisk, and was able to get in at 3 o'clock that afternoon. Dr. Wilson had called Dr. Brisk and asked her to accommodate Kagome with an early appointment.

Kagome called Sango on her cell. "Hey, Sango. It's Kagome. Can we do dinner tonight? I'd really like to spend some time talking to you."

"No problem, K-Girl. Where do you want to go? And what time?"

"Can you meet me at Yash's beach house at 6 p.m.? Did you know I am staying there? We can decide where to go to eat when we get there, OK?"

"Yeah, I heard. I'll see you at 6. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I think so. See you at 6."

Sango put her cell away and glared at Yash.

"Did I mention Yash is a prick, Krista? Stay away from him. His stupidity might be contagious."

Krista was busy comparing the claims system records with all of the policy records they had combined from the agent and underwriting systems of the insurance company. She had added the records from Onigumo's client list and was now trying to see if any of these policies had resulted in an insurance claim to the company. Yash and Sango had been glaring at each other and trading insults for most of the afternoon.

Sango would work for a while, then glare over at Yash, call him an asshole, or some other similar derogatory name. He'd glare back, and either tell her to "Shut the fuck up and get back to work," or respond with a simple "Keh".

Krista ignored both of them as much as possible.

Sango was concentrating on the financial records. She compared the company agent and underwriting systems records with the finance department records. They all checked out. Then she tried to reconcile the client records Krista had contributed. The discrepancies were huge. She identified two kinds of major discrepancies. First, there was a whole segment of his client base that was totally unknown to the company. She started running the numbers for the premiums he would have collected for policies that were never really issued and they were staggering. Onigumo had to be clearing a minimum of a quarter of a million dollars a month.

In the other category, for every policy he actually had issued by the company, there was at least one other policy listed for a related family member that the company didn't seem to know about. This fit the Naguashi's situation. It looked like Onigumo had collected for the son's policy and had it issued by the company. It also looked like he had collected for a policy on dad, which either he had then issued himself, or Dad had never received a policy. Sango did the numbers on this version of his rip-off and discovered he was raking in another hundred thousand dollars a month from this scam.

"This guy is doing better than if he had a fucking printing press in the basement." Sango stood up and stretched out. She had been working for hours and she ached all over. She gathered up all of the documentation, along with her notes, calculations and all of the company printouts that Krista wasn't using.

"Where do you want these, prick?"

"Get over it Sango, maybe you wouldn't be so irritable if you and Miroku were doing it."

"Fuck off, prick. Like I need advice from a shithead like you." Sango looked at her watch. It was already 5:30, so she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"I'm out of here, prick. Don't ask me for anything else until Kagome either forgives you or kills you. Do you want to know how I'm voting?"

"Sango, be careful. This is important. I'll talk to the President and the Board of Directors tomorrow, but you need to keep this totally under wraps for your own safety. I'm serious. And you can't leave until we figure out who the possible conspirator was internally. It had to be one of the underwriters, do you have the list so I can match these numbers?"

"I'm fried. Krista has the list and you guys can figure it out. I'll be late for a dinner with she-who-will-probably-never-be-your-mate if I don't leave now. Don't bother to give me a message for her, I'll be glad to tell her you're a total prick." And with that, she was gone.

Yash turned to Krista. "Do you have the list?"

"Yes. Give me about fifteen minutes and I'll be finished running the policies against the claims. "

Yash put away all of the files in his office safe and tried to wait patiently for Krista to finish. Recent events had not improved his patience. After about twenty-five minutes, Krista spoke.

"I'm done. The Naguashi claim is the very first one. That helps to explain how this guy continued to make the big bucks. No claims had been filed yet.

"As to the underwriter, I know most of those folks better than Sango. I have lunch with them almost every day. Where's the ID you need me to check?"

Yash handed her Sango's final compilation. It showed that one of the underwriters had worked with many of the issued policies in the last few months. That person could be an insider working with Onigumo. The number was on top.

"Yash, I know this one, without even having to look it up. She's only been with the company for about three months and I met her right after I met you. I meant to tell Sango about it because it was such a coincidence, but I forgot." Krista took a breath to stretch out and walk around the office.

"What do you mean it was such a coincidence?"

"Oh, I met her when I went to lunch with another friend of mine from underwriting. I told her all about you and Kagome and this case. Sango had shown me a picture of you and Kagome together before we met that first time at Sushi.com. It's not every day you meet someone who looks so exactly like someone else, especially in LA. She looks exactly like Kagome." Krista turned around to face Yash, beginning to speak, "Her name is Kikyo."

But Krista was speaking to an open door.