InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ The Driving Lesson ( Chapter 28 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

~~Chapter 28~~
~The Driving Lesson~
 
Bas stole a glance at Sydnie and grimaced when he noticed the way she was staring out the window, her thin arms crossed over her chest, and a sad expression adding a glossiness to her gaze. He knew she was upset with him, and truthfully, he couldn't really blame her. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he leaned his elbow against the window and heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You need to stop for anything, Sydnie?”
 
She shook her head but didn't reply.
 
“Are you going to be mad at me all day?”
 
“Thinking about it,” she replied lightly.
 
He stifled a sigh, not doubting for a moment that she was quite serious. She'd been growing more and more irritated with him in the few days since Gunnar's abrupt departure. She didn't understand his insistence that they had to keep moving, even when the reasoning should have been quite clear. Staying in one place was too dangerous. Bas had no idea how long it would take for the Onyx to figure out that their hunters had been killed, but the more ground they could cover before the next wave of bounty hunters arrived, the better . . .
 
Christmas is coming up, and if she's really been alone that long, don't you think that it'd be nice to have a real holiday?
 
Gunnar's words still echoed in his head. Bas had been thinking about it a lot in the last few days, and as much as he hated to concede to Gunnar's logic, he had to admit that the dog had a valid point. If he could make it to Chicago by Christmas . . . maybe they would be safe enough to spend a few days there . . .
 
He sighed. That was, if he could figure out how to get the stubborn cat over the threshold of the house that she was sure to view as enemy territory . . .
 
`You have bigger fish to fry, don't you, Bas?'
 
`Fish?'
 
`Yeah, you know it's just an expression.'
 
`Sure, sure . . .' He sighed inwardly. `I know.'
 
`She doesn't understand why you keep putting the freeze on her.'
 
`I . . . don't . . .'
 
`What would you call it?'
 
He made a face. `Self-preservation.'
 
`Yeah, of course . . . because Sydnie's just the devil, isn't she?'
 
`All right, you made your point.'
 
`Good.'
 
Bas scowled at the road. His youkai voice was right. He hadn't been trying to push her away, but he couldn't help it, either. Nothing like being face to face with a beautiful girl to make him realize just how pathetic he was when it came to women . . . when he wasn't worrying that she was going to think he was a complete and utter freak because of his strategically placed crests, he was worrying that he would disappoint her or worse: humiliate himself completely.
 
In short, it was a no-win situation.
 
`She's my mate,' he told himself. `She won't think I'm . . . weird . . .'
 
He stole a glance at her and sighed. She looked sad—entirely lost and alone—more alone than she had since he'd found her in Los Angeles, and Bas grimaced. “Here,” he said, digging a Florida state spoon out of his pocket. “I forgot to give this to you yesterday.”
 
She spared a glance at the offering. “You got that for me?”
 
“Yep,” he replied, setting it on the seat beside her. “What do you think?”
 
“It's all right,” she allowed, gingerly picking up the plastic case. She examined it from all angles before slipping it into her purse. “How long do we have to drive around today?”
 
Bas rubbed his temple. “Awhile longer. I want to get some more distance before we stop.”
 
She sighed. “Of course you do.”
 
He knew she hated the long hours in the car. He wasn't fond of them, either, but her safety had to come first, even if she didn't like it. To that end, they'd been traveling from before dawn until well after dusk for the last few days, zigzagging across states so that he could buy more spoons for her and to confuse the hunters, should any be trailing them, and as a result, Sydnie had grown increasingly restless and moody. “Just for a little while longer, okay?” he told her, his tone gentler than normal.
 
“Whatever, pretty boy,” She wrinkled her nose and dug the psychology textbook out from under the seat. While he had stopped to exchange vehicles, she had gone into the second-hand store next door, emerging with the book. Bas had raised a brow at the purchase but remained silent. He'd almost forgotten that she'd bought it, in the first place . . .
 
“What did you buy that for?”
 
She clucked her tongue, burying her nose in the pages. “Why else? So I can diagnose you, puppy.”
 
“Diagnose me?” he growled. “What's wrong with me?”
 
“Classic case of inferiority complex, I'd say,” she replied, “though what you have to feel inferior about is entirely beyond me.”
 
He snorted. “I do not have an inferiority complex, cat.”
 
“Are you sure?”
 
Bas snorted again.
 
“Do you have some sort of repressed fears?”
 
“Repressed fears?” he echoed incredulously.
 
“Do you feel the need to overcompensate for your imagined physical shortcomings?”
 
Bas snorted a third time. “Pfft!”
 
“You meet the classic definition, puppy.”
 
“Can it, Sydnie. I don't have an inferiority complex.”
 
“Okay, okay . . . I'll leave you alone,” she agreed amicably.
 
He heaved a sigh of relief that was cut short by her next question.
 
“Sebastian?”
 
“Hmm?”
 
“Can I drive for awhile?”
 
His eyes flared then narrowed, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I don't know, kitty . . . can you?”
 
“Well, no,” she admitted, snapping the book closed. “I've watched you, though, and it doesn't look difficult.”
 
“Because . . . you've . . . watched . . . me,” he drawled slowly.
 
She nodded. “Yes.”
 
He snorted. “No way in hell are you driving anywhere, cat.”
 
Her eyebrows drew together, and she scowled. She seemed to be thinking it over, and suddenly she sat up a little straighter, squaring her shoulders as he stifled a rising groan. “But you could teach me,” she insisted brightly.
 
“I could . . .? No,” he snorted.
 
“But . . . why not?”
 
He could feel his right eye twitching, and he drew a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Because, Sydnie, you can barely tolerate being in a car, much less driving it.”
 
“I'm not that bad anymore!” she protested.
 
“You don't like semis—you cringe and claw the door every time we pass one—”
 
“Well, they are a little excessive, don't you think?”
 
He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair and cracking the window when Sydnie lit a cigarette. “And furthermore, you don't have a license or a permit . . . which would be really, really bad if we got stopped by the police.”
 
“Incidentals, puppy . . . we haven't seen a police car in ages.”
 
“Will you put that out?” he growled.
 
She shrugged. “Will you let me drive?”
 
“Heh . . . no.”
 
“Heh . . . no, yourself.”
 
He wrinkled his nose and rolled his window down a little bit more. “Why do you want to?”
 
Sydnie sat back, exhaling a perfect smoke ring. She smiled proudly and shot him a quick glance. “I just want to . . . what if something happens to you? Who'll drive then? Though I suppose I could always call my Gunsie-Wunsie and see if he can come back . . .”
 
She was baiting him. He knew she was. Unfortunately, he couldn't help but bite at it, anyway. “The hell you will,” he snarled.
 
“So are you going to teach me how to drive?”
 
Bas heaved a sigh, trying in vain to figure out a way to counter the troublesome cat. She had a valid point though, as much as he hated to admit it. If something happened, and he couldn't drive . . . that would be the same as leaving her unprotected, wouldn't it? “You have to be damn careful,” he told her.
 
“I know,” she replied. “Careful . . . I got it. What does this do?”
 
“Syd-nie!” he growled when she reached over and flicked the gear shift. Luckily she only managed to shift the car from drive into neutral. He put the car back into drive, casing Sydnie a narrow glare. “That is the gear shift, Sydnie. You don't need to mess with that while you're driving since this is an automatic car.”
 
Her eyebrows shot up, green eyes sparkling mischievously. “Automatic? It drives by itself?”
 
He snorted. “Hardly, cat. That means that it isn't a manual, so you don't have to change gears every so often to keep it moving.”
 
“Okay, okay. So you put the stick-do-hickie on the `D' and push those footy-things down there, right?”
 
Bas grimaced at Sydnie's version of `technical terms'. “Don't forget the steering wheel.”
 
“Yes, all right. I got it, puppy.”
 
Unsnapping her seat belt, she climbed over the console, setting herself on his lap despite his protests to the contrary. “Sydnie! What are you doing?”
 
She grinned. “Driving, puppy! Let go of the wheel.”
 
He stifled a frustrated growl. “You can't sit on my lap and drive! You can't even reach the gas and brake! And will you stop fucking wiggling around? You're going to make us wreck.”
 
“Then you work the footy-thingies,” she insisted, laughing softly.
 
At least she did stop moving around, much to Bas' relief. She didn't act like she was going to get back in her seat, though, and he had to stifle another longsuffering sigh. “Stay between the lines,” he told her, peering over her shoulder as he took his foot off the gas pedal and let the car coast with his foot hovering over the brake.
 
“This isn't so bad,” she said with a giggle.
 
Bas' snort proclaimed his belief that she was dead wrong on that count.
 
“Okay, puppy, so the big footy-thingy is the gas, and the itty bitty one is the brake, right?”
 
He rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Yes, Sydnie . . . also known as right and left, but yes.”
 
“I think I should try it by myself,” she remarked at last.
 
Bas wasn't in complete agreement, but he nodded. “Then pull over.” She did as she was told, and he stopped the car. “Get off my lap, cat,” he grumbled.
 
Sydnie pulled herself up by the steering wheel and wiggled her butt. Bas blushed but slapped her rear as she giggled and wiggled it a little more. He opened the door and carefully stumbled out of the car. Sydnie sat back down, and Bas knelt, reaching for the levers that adjusted the seat. “Tell me when you can reach the footy-thingies,” Bas told her, using the terms that she seemed to prefer.
 
Sydnie stretched out her right leg. Bas tried not to notice the gentle curve of her calf; the delicate contours of her lithe body.
 
“I can reach them,” she informed him.
 
He let off the switched and sat back, letting his hands dangle between his knees. “Are you up high enough to see over the steering wheel?”
 
“Yes, puppy.”
 
“Good.” Bracing his hands on his knees, he pushed himself to his feet and stepped back. “Okay, kitty . . . Gas . . . brake . . . turn signal: up if you want to turn right, down if you want to turn left. Keep your foot on the brake until you've put the car into drive—”
 
“The big D?”
 
“Yes, the big D. Check your mirrors to make sure you're not pulling out in front of someone, and then take your foot off the brake and slowly push the gas pedal. Got it?”
 
“You seem tense, Bas the Hunter. Is something the matter?”
 
He sighed and closed the door. “Just be careful, Sydnie.”
 
He started to stride around the car, but Sydnie had other ideas. The clink of the shifting gears registered in his brain moments before she revved the engine and took off in a screech of tires and the acrid stench of burning rubber. “Fuck!” he bellowed, dashing after the car.
 
She munched on the brakes, and the car squealed to a stop about fifty feet away before turning off the engine and casually stepping out of the vehicle. “How was that, puppy?” she asked, smiling proudly.
 
“Damn it, Sydnie! What the hell were you doing?” he snarled, grabbing her shoulders and glowering down at her.
 
She blinked innocently and shrugged. “I was driving, Sebastian, and I'm done now.”
 
He didn't reply for a moment, too intent on trying to tamp down the desire to shake some sense into the feline. “That was dangerous,” he growled. “Driving isn't some game, and you—”
 
“You're sexy as hell when you're disgruntled. Did you know?”
 
Bas snapped his mouth closed as heat shot through him. “I—you—that's not—” Letting to of her arm and stabbing a finger at her, he stopped abruptly and repeated the process before dropping his hands with a heavy sigh and pointing at the car. “Get in, Sydnie, and no more funny business.”
 
“Aww,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face against his chest. “Please, puppy . . . can we just go for a walk or something? Please? Pretty please? Pretty, pretty please, with a—”
 
He grimaced. “Don't say it!”
 
“—Pussy on top?”
 
He heaved a sigh and flinched. “Sydnie . . .”
 
“Don't make me get back into the car yet,” she begged, trailing her fingertips lightly down the center of his chest. The sensation was blunted by the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but it was enough to send a delicious tremor down his spine. “Just a short walk, and I swear I'll be good the rest of the day.”
 
“I don't think you know the meaning of the word `good', kitty,” he rumbled, wrapping his arms around her waist and trying not to smile at her pouting. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the surroundings. The back country road was abandoned. They hadn't actually seen another car in quite some time. According to the television, Georgia was experiencing a milder than normal winter, and as a result, Bas' leather duster was carelessly strewn on the back seat of the car. It was easily over sixty degrees outside, and the early afternoon sunshine made it feel even warmer. Lifting his chin as he sniffed the air, he relaxed just a little. He couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary, and for that reason, he heaved another sigh, smoothing Sydnie's silky hair. “You promise, right?”
 
She nodded quickly, leaning back to stare up at him with her big, green eyes. “I promise.”
 
“I'll hold you to it,” he said, cocking a brow as he leaned back to stare at her. “Let me get Triumvirate and lock the car, okay?”
 
She squeezed him tight and stepped back, wiggling her shoulders in a silent celebration of her perceived victory as she turned her face heavenward and laughed. Bas grabbed the sword off the floor behind the driver's seat and snatched the keys out of the ignition, aiming the keychain at the car and pressing the `lock' button to secure the vehicle.
 
He strapped on the sword and held out his hand. Sydnie slipped hers into his, and he pulled her down the slope beside the road and up the hill into an unfenced pecan grove. He wasn't sure if the small orchard was a part of someone's farm, but the trees hadn't been pruned, and the ground was littered with fallen nuts. `Safe enough,' he figured. Sydnie delicately picked her way through the grove, pulling away long enough to clasp her hands together and stretch them over her head. He stopped, leaning back against a tree, arms crossed over his chest as a little grin surfaced on his features. Sydnie let her arms drop to her sides as she wandered toward him once more, her eyes glowing with a mischievous glint. “What are you thinking, kitty?” he demanded.
 
She giggled. “This is nice, isn't it?”
 
“Is it?”
 
She nodded. “I like it here.”
 
“Do you?”
 
“Yes,” she decided. “Very much so.”
 
Bas wrinkled his nose. “I don't know . . . it doesn't really feel like December to me.”
 
“Because it isn't cold?”
 
He shrugged, pushing himself away from the tree and catching Sydnie's hand to walk a little further. Eyes sweeping over the area, he didn't let his guard down as they moved through the trees. “That, and because I miss the snow.”
 
“Snow . . .”
 
“Yes, kitty, snow. It's . . . beautiful, I guess . . . quiet and perfect . . .” He grimaced. “At least until the plows go through . . . or until Dad starts yelling at me to shovel it off the driveway.”
 
“He makes you shovel the snow?”
 
“Sure, and that wouldn't even be so bad, but he always wants it done first thing in the morning in case Mom wants to go somewhere.” Bas chuckled suddenly, and Sydnie shot him a questioning glance. “I bought him a snow blower a couple years ago for Christmas,” he explained. “Evan thought it was cool, though, so now he takes care of it.”
 
“He likes using the snow blower?”
 
Bas rolled his eyes. “He likes anything that makes ungodly noise and annoys the hell out of everyone else.”
 
She laughed and glanced up at him just before her head snapped to the side, and she lifted her chin. “What's that?” she asked vaguely, concentrating on whatever it was she smelled.
 
Bas sniffed the air, too, and scowled since he didn't smell anything amiss. “What's wh—Sydnie!” he hollered as she darted away through the trees. Shaking his head—he really ought to have known that the cat-youkai would pull some sort of trick—Bas strode after her.
 
Stepping out of the grove of pecan trees, Bas stopped short and cautiously looked around. It took a moment for him to find the wayward kitty. Sprawled comfortably in a shallow vale between two hills, she rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows as she glanced at Bas and uttered a low sound caught somewhere between a purr and a mew. He blinked and glanced around, unsure why she'd make that sort of noise, and wondering, too, just what was so damn familiar about the rising smell emanating from the foliage under Sydnie's body. As her movements released the fragrance into the air, she broke into a loud purr, her eyes heavy-lidded: sultry, inviting, almost intoxicated . . . Still nothing seemed amiss in the general vicinity other than Sydnie's somewhat odd behavior, and, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head that whispered that Sydnie was definitely acting strangely, Bas wandered toward her.
 
“Come on, Sydnie,” he coaxed, reaching down to help her to her feet.
 
She grasped his hands and tugged, catching him off guard. He stumbled, knees skidding over the ground as she let go of his hands, throwing her arms around his neck. Rising on her knees, she pressed her body against his, her heart hammering so hard that he could feel the palpitations. Lips smashing down on his, she made the odd sound once more, pushing him back and crawling on him, straddling his chest as she delved her tongue into his mouth. His nerves frayed and tingled as her scent spiked in his head. The rising burn that flowed through him fed off the deeper instinct that was a powerful force that he fought to ignore. Her hands snaked under his shirt, her fingertips dancing on overheated flesh. The yearning grew into an ache; spiraled into something far headier. Her breath was ragged, harsh, and she ground her hips against him in a rhythmic undulation that shocked him; that thrilled him . . .
 
Kissing her way along his jaw, she caught his earlobe between her teeth, flicking the soft skin with her tongue, she rumbled a low purr. He groaned softly, his will to fight the overwhelming lure of her wearing thin. His body reacted to her, throbbing painfully as his need to have her spun out of his control.
 
“It . . . hurts,” she whimpered, nuzzling against his neck as she reached down, squeezing him through the rough fabric of his jeans. He growled sharply, catching her wrist and pulling her hand away. “Why . . .?”
 
“S-Syd . . . nie . . .” he mumbled, brain functioning painfully slowly. It wasn't right, was it? The strange sense of urgency in her every movement seemed to stem from something that he just couldn't understand. Unable to make sense of her sudden voracity, Bas forced himself to push her back despite the protesting of his body, of his youkai blood.
 
“What's gotten into you?” he demanded, his tone harsher than he intended for it to be. His hands were shaking, his body trembling, and he had to fight the desire to grab her and kiss her again.
 
Staring at him with a strange sort of vagueness in her gaze, she half-purr, half-mewled at him, her breasts straining against the flimsy fabric of her barely-there tank top with every breath she drew. He could see her hardened nipples, perfectly delineated by the sheer white cloth . . . Forcing his gaze off the entirely too provocative image of her, Bas drew a deep, ragged breath and closed his eyes. “I want you, puppy,” she whispered with a throaty purr. “Don't you want to stroke the pussy?”
 
Ignoring the heated blush that crashed over him, Bas grasped her upper arms and held her back. “What . . .?” He trailed off and scowled as late realization of just what, exactly, they were sitting in dawned on him. “Catnip?” he mumbled, eyes widening as he stared at Sydnie. “All of this is because of the catnip?”
 
She blinked slowly, her cheeks flushed, eyes still bright, and she shook her head. “Catnip?” she repeated then shook her head. “Come here, puppy . . .”
 
`It is,' he realized with a sickened grimace. `It's the catnip . . .'
 
`Maybe,' his youkai agreed. `Then again, maybe is a combination of you and the catnip.'
 
He shook his head and sighed, standing up and pulling Sydnie gently to her feet. He let go of her long enough to scoop her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and contented herself by nibbling on his ear again. “Stop it, cat,” he grumbled, quickening his pace as he hurried back to the car.
 
She moaned in dissent and kept nibbling, hands kneading his shoulders.
 
He winced. He hadn't wanted to stop early, but considering the smell of the catnip was all over him and her, both, he wasn't so sure he had a choice, either, because Sydnie didn't seem to be able to stop herself . . .
 
Bas sighed, setting Sydnie on her feet long enough to unlock the car and open her door. Extricating himself from her grasp, he gently pushed her into the vehicle and closed the door before she could wrap herself around him again.
 
`Catnip, huh . . .?' he thought as he strode around the car to get inside. “Damn.”
 
His youkai sighed, too.
 
 
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A/N:
I've posted teasers in the Sueric Forum (http://suericfanfics.forumsplace.com ) for most of the upcoming Purity stories, with a couple notable exceptions. Feel free to stop by and check them out!
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Reviewers
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MMorg
Inusbabe ------ inuyashaloverr ------ Simonkal of Inuy (No … that was just a goofy final thought …) ------ futekioosha ------ Rawben ------ artemiswaterdragon ------ NekoKamiFL ------ OROsan0677 ------ OROsan0677 ------ Jesachi ------ Kurisu no Ryuujin ------ Pyro Amedaus
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Final Thought fromBas:
Catnip …?
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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Phantasm): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.
 
~Sue~