InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Just Before Dawn ( Chapter 32 )

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

~*~*~*~*~*~Lemon warning~*~*~*~*~*~
 
There is no clean version of this chapter. You've been warned.
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
~~Chapter 32~~
~Just Before Dawn~
 
With a sigh, Bas turned off the back road onto the graveled path that led to the bed and breakfast inn. The analog clock on the radio panel read nearly four-thirty in the morning. Sydnie slept fitfully in the passenger side bucket seat. Curled as tightly as she could into a startlingly small, unobtrusive little lump, she was shrouded in the darkest shadows where even the wan light of the dashboard lights didn't reach her.
 
`Damn, Bas . . . you've got some serious amends to make.'
 
He winced. He'd been in such a rush to check out of the hotel that he hadn't really taken any time to explain things to Sydnie. In fact, he'd been so caught up in the desire to find a nicer place for her, that he hadn't realized until well after they were moving that she was teetering on the brink of losing her temper.
 
`I'll explain it to her,' he told himself. `She'll understand.'
 
At least, he hoped she would. Caught off guard by her admission, the only thing he'd been able to think was that, while he hadn't much cared if his first time had been in a ratty little motel room, he didn't want hers to be. There was an anime convention nearby, so finding accommodations for the night had been harder than usual. In the end, he'd settled for an out of the way motel that hadn't even been equipped with a television, and after gazing around at the faded curtains, the stained brown, threadbare carpet, the dingy grayed walls that should have been white . . . Bas rubbed his forehead and sighed again. No, that wasn't the place that he wanted Sydnie to remember.
 
Do you think it's true? That it hurts the first time?
 
The wince deepened into a full-blown grimace. `I . . . I can't hurt her . . .'
 
`Even if it does hurt the first time, you can show her later that it's not always going to be that way.'
 
`And yet that just doesn't really make me feel any better.'
 
`Suck it up, Bas. You're worrying about this too much. Sydnie wants you; you know she does. She probably loves you, even if she is too stubborn to admit as much.'
 
He sighed, cracking his window and breathing in the crisp night air.
 
Finding the bed and breakfast had been a stroke of luck, actually. He'd stopped to grab a container of milk for Sydnie—an offering to appease her that hadn't really worked—but the older man standing behind the counter had eyed him rather cautiously before asking if he was lost.
 
Bas blinked and shook his head, cheeks pinking when he thought about what he was actually trying to do. Finding a place that could make Sydnie's first time memorable? Why did it sound more perverse in his head every single time he thought about it?
 
I, uh, no . . . not exactly,” he grumbled, setting the milk on the counter and digging out his wallet.
 
You aren't from around these parts, are you? You got an eastern accent.”
 
Do I?” Bas asked with a lopsided little grin. Funny. He'd never really thought about that before . . .
 
Yep. My brother lives in Connecticut. They talk a lot like you do.”
 
Bas nodded, glancing outside to make sure that Sydnie was still safe enough in the car. “Uh, maybe . . . could I ask you something? You're right; I'm not from around here. My . . . my girl and I are a little tired, and with the convention, we haven't been able to find any good places to stay. Can you recommend anything? Somewhere . . . nice?”
 
The man turned thoughtful, stroking his goatee and leaning back against the counter behind him. “Nice, you say? Your girl . . . you newlyweds or something?
 
Bas flinched inwardly. For reasons he didn't want to consider, the idea of telling this man that he and Sydnie weren't married or even really engaged . . . why did that feel as though he were besmirching her? “Something like that,” he lied.
 
The man smiled. “Not sure if you're interested or not, but my sister-in-law has a bed and breakfast. Just outside the city and across from a small dairy farm.”
 
A bed and breakfast? That sounds perfect. Do you have her number?
 
He chuckled. “Never mind, son. I'll give her a call for you. She's always saying that business is slow this time of year, anyway. I'm sure she won't mind. Just take the main drag straight north, turn right on the first road after you get out of the city limits. Head out about three miles, and look for a sign: Hawethorn's Bed and Breakfast. Take that gravel road on down a mile or so, and there you'll be.”
 
Bas nodded, pulling the almanac from his pocket and leafing through to find the county map. “Would you mind marking it down for me?
 
Sure thing,” he agreed. Highlighting the route with a blue ball-point pen, he handed the almanac back and took the twenty-dollar bill that Bas handed him for the milk. “What's your name?
 
Bas Kaemon,” Bas replied, using the name he'd been using since leaving home on this mission. “Thank you.”
 
Wait! Your change!” he called out as Bas pushed the glass door open.
 
Keep it, and thanks!” Bas replied, loping across the parking lot as he studied the marked route.
 
The porch was illuminated in a calm yellowish light that mingled with the strings of blue Christmas lights that lined the railings and banisters. Soft light spilled from the large picture window, and Bas stopped the car in front of the winding sidewalk that led to the porch. Sydnie was still sleeping as he got out of the car, and he strode up the path as a short, plump middle aged woman stepped outside, wrapped in a heavy woolen shawl. “You must be Mr. Kaemon,” she greeted.
 
Bas nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”
 
She smiled. “I'm Betty Hawethorn, and welcome to Hawethorn's Ben and Breakfast. My brother-in-law, Marty called me a few minutes ago; said you needed a place to stay?”
 
“Please.”
 
“Certainly,” she assured him. “It's our slow time around here, and I don't have any reservations all week, so you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
“Where's your wife?”
 
Bas grimaced inwardly. “She . . . fell asleep in the car.”
 
“Oh, well . . . here.” Slipping a key into his hand, the woman's smile widened as she pointed behind herself. “There's a separate entrance out back. Just take the stairs up, and you can't miss it. It's the first door on the landing. “Ordinarily I try to have dinner waiting for my guests, but since I wasn't really expecting you . . .”
 
“That's fine,” Bas assured her. “How much do I owe you?”
 
She waved away his question. “Don't worry about it tonight. You can settle up before you leave.”
 
“O-okay.” The lowing of a cow drew Bas' attention, and he glanced around. “He said there was a dairy farm nearby?”
 
“Yep. My brother owns it, actually.”
 
“Really . . . I don't suppose he'd mind if I took Sydnie over there tomorrow? She's never been out of the city.”
 
The woman laughed. “I don't suppose he would. If you'd like, I can bring you up some milk and cheese and bread . . . not really a meal, but the milk's fresh from the dairy, and the cheese and butter came from there, too.”
 
“That'd be great,” Bas said then grinned. “Sydnie . . . loves milk.”
 
“Why don't you go on and get settled in? You can pull your car into the barn, if you'd like. We're supposed to get snow, come morning.”
 
Bas thanked her and ran back to the car.
 
Sydnie didn't stir when he stopped in front of the wooden staircase that led to the room. She didn't wake up when he laid her on the bed in the midst of a cloud of downy white comforter and lacy white throw pillows. He spared a moment to smile down at her before heading off to pull the car into the barn. Strapping on Triumvirate and grabbing the suitcase out of the trunk, he closed the barn doors and hurried back to the room. The place was more perfect than he could have imagined. Set back well away from the road with the car safely concealed in the barn, Bas wondered if he dared to let Sydnie stay here for more than a day or two before they had to move on again.
 
Betty knocked on the door as Bas set the suitcase down. He strode over to answer it, and stepped back to allow the woman to enter. The pale wood tray was laden with a pitcher of milk and a plate of sliced cheeses, a couple baskets of fluffy, crusty white bread and a ball of light, creamy butter. “It's not much, but I'll make up for it come breakfast time. What time would you like that?”
 
“Uh, any time is fine,” he assured her, stealing a glance at Sydnie when he heard the soft rustle of her movements. She sat up slowly, blinking away the cloudy, dreamy look that lingered after sleep. She rubbed her eyes and glanced around, spotting Bas quickly enough before she curled up on her side once more, lost in the puffy, thick blankets.
 
“Oh, she's lovely,” Betty murmured, setting the tray down and squeezing Bas' forearm.
 
“She is,” he agreed with a grateful smile. “Thanks again. I-I-I was starting to think I wasn't going to find anything tonight.”
 
“Glad I could help,” she said. “I'll leave you two alone now, and I called over to the dairy. He's up doing the milking already. Said to come on by whenever you want. He'd love to let you have a look around.”
 
Bas nodded and closed the door after Betty stepped back outside. Taking his time locking the door, he shrugged off his leather duster and hung it on the wooden hook beside the door.
 
“Where are we?” Sydnie asked quietly.
 
Turning to face her as he unstrapped Triumvirate and stowed his beside the hulking wood wardrobe, Bas shot her a shy little smile and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “A bed and breakfast inn. What do you think?”
 
Pushing herself up once more, she slowly took in the surroundings. “It's nice,” she finally said then scrunched up her shoulders, staring miserably at her hands as she shook her head. “I don't understand why . . .?”
 
“Sydnie . . . I didn't want your first time to be in that seedy little hotel room,” he admitted, staring at the floor as he shuffled his feet.
 
“But that would have been okay for you?”
 
He shrugged. “I'm a guy,” he said quietly. “Besides . . . anywhere is good enough for me, so long as I'm with you.”
 
Sydnie didn't reply right away, but he didn't miss the trembling little smile that finally lightened her expression. Bas wandered over to the table and poured her a glass of milk. “Here . . . it's fresh from the dairy.”
 
“Dairy?” she echoed, green eyes rounding in wonder.
 
He nodded. “Yep . . . there's one across the way . . . the guy said that I could take you there, if you want. I thought . . . I thought maybe you'd like to see the cows.”
 
A strange sort of sadness filtered through her gaze. As though he had said something that had somehow hurt her, she blinked quickly and forced a wry little smile. “I'd like to see the cows,” she said almost bashfully.
 
“Yeah? Well, here . . . it's a little different from the milk you're used to . . . I think you'll like it, though.” He chuckled. “There's a small farm back home . . . it's about the only milk my mom will drink willingly. She says it doesn't taste as bad as the store-bought stuff. Anyway, Mom always says that fresh milk is a lot richer.”
 
Sydnie slowly took the glass and frowned as she stared into it. “It's got stuff on top,” she said.
 
Bas shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed, levering off his boots and setting them aside. “It's cream,” he told her. “They skimmed it, I'm sure, but it's hard to get all the cream.”
 
Sydnie eyed it another minute before cautiously dipping the tip of her finger into the milk and licking it clean. Her already round eyes grew even rounder, and she giggled softly before draining the entire glass in one long gulp.
 
Bas took the empty glass and refilled it without a word. Sydnie repeated the process and handed it back before snuggling into the covers once more. “I take it you like it?” he teased with a lopsided little grin.
 
Sydnie giggled and nodded, curled up on her side with a secretive grin on her face. Hair shining in the ambient light of the table lamp, she was surrounded by a fiery glow. Bas' breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her, and he had to wonder if she had any idea how very precious she was to him . . . `Sometimes,' he mused with a smile, `she looks just like a little kitten . . .'
 
“You tired, baby?” he asked at last, breaking the companionable silence that had fallen between them.
 
She shook her head slowly without taking her eyes off him.
 
“You sure?”
 
“I took a nap in the car, remember?”
 
He grinned, scooting closer, running his fingertips along her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaned into his touch, her smile turning wistful. “So you did . . .”
 
She giggled softly, pushing herself up again, rising on her knees as she stared at him. The brightness in her gaze held him spellbound, her lips parting as her breathing quickened, as she slowly lifted her hand to tug at the heavy silver zipper, revealing the deep vale between her breasts, the trim flatness of her belly, lower and lower until he could see the delicate black satin of her tiny panties. She let the dress fall off her shoulders; let it slide down her arms. It clung to her hips, and she dropped her shoes off the edge of the bed before standing up, hooking her panties, and slowly pushing them down the length of her legs, riding behind the skirt.
 
The demure tangle of deep auburn curls—no more than a perfectly symmetrical little trail—held his attention. Standing with feet splayed to retain her balance, her scent was dizzying, intoxicating, and he opened his mouth to speak but couldn't seem to form coherent words. The trim lines of her hips that flared gently from her tiny waist flowed like waves on the ocean, and with a soft moan, she dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck, seared his lips with hers in a kiss full of desperation, full of need.
 
He slipped his arms around her, groaned as she pressed herself against his body. Straddling his hips, she ground her hips against his stomach. He could feel the absolute heat of her permeating the thin fabric of the t-shirt he wore, his body reacting to hers, throbbing painfully, deliciously. “Kitty,” he muttered between kisses, “we . . . need . . . to . . . stop . . .”
 
“Why?” she whined, the underlying hint of panic in her voice digging at him.
 
“C-con . . . doms . . .” he rasped out, shuddering when she reached down to fondle him.
 
She squeezed him tightly then sat back on his knees with a sigh. “Oh, those,” she muttered, cheeks flushed. “Where?”
 
He swallowed hard, stripping off his shirt and dropping it carelessly on the floor. “My coat,” he told her.
 
She scooted off his lap, sauntering over to retrieve the box of condoms. Lost in the contemplation of the gentle sway of her hips, Bas gulped again, light-headed, almost forgetting the necessity of breathing. He watched her rummage through his pockets until she found the box. Tapping it against her palm as she slowly crossed the floor, Bas stood up, fingers shaking as he worked the fastenings of his jeans, discarding them as Sydnie slit the box open and pulled a packet out. With a sly little smile, she dropped the box onto the nightstand before shoving the throw pillows off onto the floor and peeling back the blankets, her ass wiggling in the air as she crawled across the bed.
 
Bas watched her movements, mesmerized by the easy dexterity that she possessed. Tugging on his hair, pulling him down to kiss her, Sydnie pushed herself up on her toes, slowly bouncing on the balls of her feet, rubbing her breasts against his bare skin in a heated caress. He moaned softly, his body jerking wildly, seeking the heat of her that he could feel but couldn't quite reach; not yet.
 
She pushed against him until he tumbled back on the bed. Nibbling on his lips, his chin, she whimpered, legs parting, falling on either side of his hips, and after one last, lingering kiss, she sat up, breasts heaving, skin pink, nipples hard and puckered. The dusty pink flesh had darkened even more. Bas lifted his hands, cupping her breasts, squeezing them gently as her head fell back, exposing the creamy skin of her delicate neck. Rasping out a strangled purr, she braced her hands on his abdomen and pushed herself back. He couldn't do more than watch as she ripped open the small packet and carefully extracted the condom. She tossed the empty packet onto the floor before rolling the condom into place. He squeezed his eyes closed, fidgeting when she crawled over him again, the head of his penis trailing along her skin, between her breasts, down her belly, into the radiant heat that beckoned him.
 
She rose on her knees, leaned back enough to grip the base of him, positioning her body over him. Bas was too bemused to think, too bemused to stop her, his mind barely registering just what she was doing until it was too late. Sydnie slammed herself down on him, crying out as her body stiffened and shook. The heat—the consuming heat and the absolute tightness that surrounded him was just too much. Instinct took over, and he grabbed her hips, jerking her back down hard once, twice, a handful of times. She was too tight, the friction was too much, too incredible, and with a ragged entreaty, he felt the world explode.
 
It took several minutes before Bas could think, before he could even open his eyes. When he finally did, it was to find Sydnie gently wiping him off with a warm washcloth. She must have discarded the used condom because he didn't see it anywhere. She caught the tender look in his eyes, the almost apologetic grin that he offered her, and she smiled. Dropping the washcloth onto the floor, she leaned down and kissed the tip of his penis before crawling back up to snuggle against him, her contented sigh a sharp contrast to the ragged sounds of his respirations. “Baby,” he murmured, kissing her forehead, smoothing her hair as she cuddled into the crook of his neck.
 
“I'm sleepy,” she whispered, her fist opening and closing against his chest, carefully keeping her claws from cutting him. “Just hold me.”
 
Bas' smile widened as he pulled her closer. “I'll hold you, kitty,” he promised, closing his eyes as the first wan rays of gray dawn light filtered through the windows. “I'll hold you . . . forever . . .”
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
Sydnie awoke to a gentle tickling sensation against her shoulder. Leaning back slowly, she couldn't help but smile at the somewhat smug grin on Sebastian's face as he idly rubbed her shoulder. The tickle, she supposed, was from the trace touch of his claw. Giggling softly, she kissed his cheek before snuggling against him again.
 
“Morning, baby,” he told her without opening his eyes.
 
“Mm,” she half-purred, basking in the warmth he offered, the incredible sense that she was entirely safe. “Morning, puppy.”
 
He chuckled. “Want to go see the cows today?”
 
She sighed. “Does that mean I have to move?”
 
“I'd think so, yes . . .”
 
She shook her head. “Then, no.”
 
His chuckle escalated. “You want to stay here a couple days?”
 
She sat up, bracing her hands against his chest. “Can we?”
 
He nodded. “I think so . . . the car's in the barn, so it's out of view, and this place is about a mile or better off the main road . . . Safe enough, at least for a couple days, I'd say.”
 
She grinned. “Yeah?”
 
He tweaked her nose. “Yeah. Why don't you go get dressed, and I'll take you to see the cows. Besides, it's supposed to snow, or so Mrs. Hawethorn said.”
 
“Okay,” she agreed happily. Rolling over and tossing back the blankets, Sydnie winced as she shot to her feet. She didn't hurt a lot, but the sudden movement reminded her that her first experience with sex hadn't exactly been great—not even good, truthfully, and there was no way that she'd ever, ever let Bas know that . . . Thankful that he hadn't seen her face, Sydnie hurried to the bathroom, pausing long enough to smile at Sebastian before quietly closing the door.
 
`Not good, huh?' her youkai mused.
 
Sydnie pulled the lever to stop the tub and turned on the taps and caught her hair up in a loose chignon. `It's supposed to hurt the first time,' she argued.
 
`Hurt, maybe . . . you damn near died, remember?'
 
She grimaced. `That's not true,' she protested. All the same, she couldn't brush off the disturbing memory of the searing pain of the act, itself. Yes, she had to admit, it hurt—a lot. In fact, she'd thought that she was going to die. Thing was, she didn't think that Bas had realized it, and she'd be damned if she'd tell him. He was far too sensitive about sex and his own body that the last thing she would ever do would be to add to his feelings of reticence. No, best not to tell him that it had hurt. She was youkai, wasn't she? She was tough. Bas had loved it, and that was enough. Besides . . .
 
`Besides,' she rationalized as she stepped into the tub and stretched out a little more slowly than normal, `she said it was something that men liked, right? And I don't remember . . . if she ever really enjoyed it, either.'
 
True enough. Sydnie had seen it a few times, the act of having sex. She'd seen it often enough to know that, while the men always seemed to enjoy it despite the almost tortured expressions on their faces when they came, she never really had. Sydnie had been too young to understand it at the time, but now . . . now maybe she did.
 
And it wasn't as though Sydnie hadn't enjoyed it at all. She'd enjoyed everything before the actual sex part, and she loved the cuddling afterward. It was a small price to pay, wasn't it, to have those feelings again. She'd never felt so close to someone before, an absolute synchronization of her heart and his . . . in those moments, she felt as though she knew everything there was to know about him, and maybe for an instant, she'd believed that he really could redeem her . . .
 
She smiled sadly and sighed. What was a little pain as long as Bas was satisfied? It was enough. It was all she had to give him . . .
 
`Think about it, Sydnie . . . I don't think it's really supposed to hurt—at least, not like that.'
 
`Maybe,' she replied dubiously. That was one thing that she'd never bothered to find out about, though. In her sordid pursuit of knowledge, she hadn't thought to look into sex. Until she'd met Bas, she hadn't actually believed she'd ever do it, anyway. Aside from a few blow jobs she'd given ultimately to gain information from the target, she hadn't even kissed a man before Sebastian . . . other than Cal Richardson, the bastard . . . Maybe she was just very good at assimilating various disguises—in giving the illusion that she was exactly what men wanted in order to manipulate them into giving her what she wanted.
 
Except . . .
 
`Except I've never really done that to Sebastian . . . I've never really wanted to . . .'
 
`Just think about it, Sydnie . . . of course you don't want to manipulate Sebastian. He adores you, don't you know?'
 
She smiled to herself, the warmth that the words inspired in her rivaling the overwhelming sense of belonging that had wrapped around her before she'd fallen asleep. `I . . . I like him . . . a lot.'
 
The hot water was doing the trick, relaxing away the lingering stiffness, dispelling the soreness between her legs. Settling back against the tub, she shut off the water with her toes and closed her eyes. `A nice, long soak,' she decided. `That's all I need . . .'
 
 
-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-
 
 
Bas watched Sydnie shut the bathroom door and sighed, unable to keep the smile off his face as he rolled his head back and closed his eyes.
 
`Well, it wasn't awful, I guess,' his youkai piped up, `but it could have been better.'
 
`No, not nearly as horrible as I figured it might be,' he agreed.
 
`Yeah, well, just do better the next time . . . Bas?'
 
`Hmm?'
 
`I don't think she enjoyed it nearly as much as you did.'
 
He frowned but didn't open his eyes. `I don't know . . . she didn't seem to mind it at all, did she?'
 
`Still . . .'
 
A knock on the door drew Bas out of his musings. He snatched his jeans off the floor and quickly jerked them up, fastening them as he strode over to answer the knock. Mrs. Hawethorn smiled pleasantly, holding up a tray of assorted breakfast goodies. Bas blinked. “Thanks,” he remarked, stepping back to allow the woman to enter the room.
 
She carefully set the tray down and took the one from the night before. “I heard the pipes gurgling, so I figured you'd be awake,” she informed him with a bright smile. “How long have your wife and you been married?”
 
Grimacing inwardly at the bald-faced lie, Bas rubbed his knuckles along the vale in the center of his chest and shrugged. “Not long,” he replied, tamping down the blush inspired by the untruth.
 
“Newlyweds? That's so romantic! On your honeymoon, are you?”
 
He smiled weakly. “Uh, yeah . . . sure.”
 
“Your wife is just the sweetest looking thing . . . reminds me of my daughter when she got married. Would you like me to tidy the room now, or I could do it later, if you're planning on stepping out to see the dairy? It's just started to snow, so I reckon the weather reports were a little off.”
 
“Snow,” Bas repeated, stepping over to the window and pushing the gauzy curtain aside. Huge flakes were falling softly, blanketing the ground in a fluffy white cloud, and he smiled. “She's never seen snow,” he mused quietly.
 
“You're kidding! Not ever?”
 
He shook his head, letting the curtain fall back into place. “Nope . . . she's from the west coast. Guess it's pretty warm there.”
 
“There's a nice little trail that circles through the forest,” she said, nodding at the woods behind the house. “Plainly marked, too, if you'd like to go for a walk.”
 
“Thanks,” Bas replied again. “I'll let you know when we leave the room.”
 
“That's fine, dear,” she assured him. “If you want lunch, just let me know then, too. Lots of people go into town to eat, but you don't have to. It's covered in the price of your room. Anyway, I think a nice chicken corn chowder sounds good on a cold day like today. It's really good, if I do say so, myself . . . home made with fluffy buttermilk biscuits . . .”
 
“That sounds great,” he told her. “I think Sydnie would like it.”
 
Mrs. Hawethorn laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners in an entirely pleasant way. “I'll leave you alone, then. The kitchen number's next to the phone, so just let me know if you need anything else.”
 
“Thanks. I will.”
 
She slipped out of the room, and Bas smiled, swiping up the clothes that littered the floor and carefully folding them to put back in the suitcase again. Sydnie was taking her time, and that was fine. He felt pretty lethargic, too, and with a sigh, he shuffled toward the bed, pulling back the covers and stopping dead in his tracks. “Good God!” he rasped out, eyes widening in shock as he stared at the huge stain on the bed. He wasn't sure why he hadn't realized it sooner. He should have been able to smell Sydnie's blood. Then again, he realized with a wince, he had been so wrapped up in what he was feeling he hadn't even noticed . . . With a sickened groan, he sank down on the edge of the bed, hand hovering over the stain that was easily as big as his palm. He'd thought that her cries, that her body's responses were normal, but maybe . . .
 
He swallowed hard, uttering a low half-growl, half-whine. Maybe he had hurt her, after all . . .
 
The trill of his cell phone cut through his recriminating thoughts with the vindictiveness of a knife, and Bas snatched the device, flipping it open and bringing it to his ear as he stared in horror at the crimson stain. “What?” he snarled.
 
“Wow, now that's a nice greeting, Bas. What's crawled up your ass and died?”
 
Bas grimaced, rubbing his face as he heaved a self-disgusted sigh. “What do you want, Gunnar?”
 
Gunnar clucked his tongue. “Really, really crabby, I take it. I was just calling to make sure that you're both safe.”
 
“I'm safe enough,” Bas grouched. “Damn it . . .”
 
“That sounded cryptic. What's going on?”
 
Bas squeezed his eyes closed and heaved another sigh. Gunnar wasn't exactly the first person he'd think of calling about this, but he really needed answers before he panicked too much. “Gunnar . . . you ever . . . sleep with a virgin?”
 
“A virgin? Once . . . why?”
 
Bas winced. “If you say anything to anyone, I swear to God I'll kill you,” he threatened. “I mean it.”
 
“I won't; I won't . . . wait . . . are you saying Sydnie was a virgin?
 
Bas gulped. “Yes.”
 
“Congratulations, buddy . . . you don't sound too good for a man who finally got some ass.”
 
Wrinkling his nose at Gunnar's vulgar choice of wording, Bas had to count to ten before he dared to answer. “How much . . . bleeding . . . is . . . normal?” he forced himself to ask.
 
Gunnar sighed. “Bleeding? Not too much . . . why?”
 
“Define, `not too much',” Bas reiterated.
 
“Ehh, trace amounts, really . . . a few drops . . . maybe the size of a half-dollar, if that.”
 
Bas flopped onto his back, draping his arm over his face. “Shit.”
 
“Why?” Gunnar asked again.
 
“She bled . . . a lot.”
 
“Okay, okay. Calm down, Bas . . . how much is a lot?”
 
Bas pushed himself up on his elbow and winced at the stain again. “About the size of . . . my palm,” he grumbled. “A little wider . . .”
 
Gunnar paused as though he were considering something. Clearing his throat, he released a deep breath and clucked his tongue. “Send me a picture.”
 
“What? Hell, no! You damn pervert, I—”
 
“Don't freak out on me, Bas. I just want to make sure you're not exaggerating.”
 
Bas snorted but lowered the phone, making quick work of snapping a picture and sending it through. “Well?” he grumbled, skin growing hotter by the second.
 
Gunnar whistled low. “Holy dogs . . . can she walk?”
 
Bas clenched his jaw and snorted. “Pfft! Yes, damn it!”
 
“Well, wait . . . before you get all ticked off, you didn't just jump on her, did you?”
 
“No!” Bas snarled, face flaming as he struggled to keep from hanging up on his cousin.
 
“Well, what did happen?”
 
Bas shook his head. “I . . . we . . . she . . . she put the condom on me, and . . . you know . . . sort of . . . sat down . . .”
 
“Oh, hell, she did that to herself?
 
“Gunnar—”
 
“Sorry . . . listen . . . it sounds to me like she just wasn't ready for you; that's all. If she's not showing signs of being uncomfortable, then I'd say she's all right. I mean, hell, Bas . . . just take it easy the next time. It gets better.”
 
Bas snorted again, not sure whether to believe Gunnar or not.
 
Gunnar sighed again. “If you don't believe me, just go see if she seems all right to you. If she does, then I'd say you're fine. She's not mad at you, is she?”
 
Bas winced, recalling Sydnie's complete contentment earlier. “No, she's not.”
 
“Then I'd say you're not doing so badly. Let's face it: if you'd really hurt her, don't you think she'd have told you?”
 
“I don't know.”
 
“She's not averse to letting you know when you've upset her otherwise. I'd say that if you did hurt her, she definitely would have let you know.”
 
Bas flopped onto his back once more. “But it's only the first time, right? She shouldn't bleed again . . .?”
 
“Nope, you're home free. Now, if she bled the next time? Then I'd be worried, but for now, I'm inclined to think that maybe you two just rushed things a little.”
 
Bas rolled off the bed and caught the phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing up his hands so that he could fill a glass with fresh milk. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, you ass.”
 
“Any time, Bas. Just go make sure she's okay, and stop worrying. She's youkai, right? She's tougher than she looks.”
 
Bas nodded, hoping that Gunnar's assessment of the situation was correct. “Yeah, okay . . .”
 
“Anyway, let me know if the Onyx shows up again. Your dad's spies say that the office has been unusually quiet the last few days.”
 
“Didn't know you'd found the office.”
 
“Yeah, well, we're about ninety-nine percent positive that it is. I saw Jeb Christopher going in there, myself.”
 
“I'll call if I see them,” Bas assured him. “Oh, and can you tell Dad to wire money? We're in a small town just outside of Harrisburg, Illinois—Cicily.”
 
“Yep. Bas?”
 
“Hmm?”
 
Gunnar sighed. “I'm sure she's fine.”
 
Caught off guard by the compassion in Gunnar's tone, Bas blinked and stared blankly at the window for a moment. “I hope so.”
 
Gunnar hung up, and Bas snapped his phone closed, tossing it onto the table and picking up the glass of milk before heading for the bathroom. “Sydnie? You okay?” he called through the door after tapping lightly.
 
“Just fine, puppy,” she replied, voice muffled by the door though she sounded happy enough. “Why don't you come in here and wash my back?”
 
Bas drew a deep breath and opened the door, smiling despite himself when he spotted her, covered to her chin with a thick froth of bubbles. “I brought you some milk.”
 
She smiled at him, eyes reflecting the light filtering through the window as she held out her soapy hands for the glass. He chuckled, retrieving the towel off the floor so that she could dry her hands off before giving her the milk. “Mmm,” she moaned. “This is so good . . .”
 
“I'm glad you like it,” he said, hunkering down beside the tub and letting his fingers dangle in the water. “Sydnie . . . tell me something?”
 
“Hmm?”
 
He reached out, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her temple. “Last night . . . did you . . . are you . . . did I . . . hurt you?”
 
She didn't answer right away, pushing herself up and letting her head fall against his shoulder. He rubbed her back, traced the pale pink crescents that circled her thin shoulder blades—her crests. She sighed in complete contentment as Bas grabbed the washcloth and carefully soaped her back. “You can't hurt me, Sebastian,” she insisted. “I'm fine.”
 
He grimaced, taking his time rinsing the suds away. “You bled, kitty . . . you bled a lot.”
 
“So women bleed the first time. It's not a big deal, right?”
 
His scowl insisted that he didn't believe her. She scooped up some bubbles on the tip of her finger and smeared them onto his nose.
 
Bas chuckled softly, unable to remain stern when she was determined to be so playful. He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You'd tell me, right? If I did hurt you?”
 
“Of course I would, puppy,” she replied, the glint in her eye convincing him that she was absolutely just trying to placate him.
 
He sighed. “It'd kill me to hurt you, you know it?”
 
Her smile faltered but didn't disappear. “You haven't, so don't worry.”
 
He shook his head, letting his cheek rest on her forehead. “Come on, baby. You're going to turn into a prune, and . . . and I want to take you to see those cows.”
 
Sydnie grinned and kissed his cheek. “Cows,” she repeated with a little giggle.
 
He gave her a quick squeeze before grabbing the towel off the toilet. She stood up, and he caught his breath. If he really had hurt her, she didn't show any signs of it. Carefully keeping his face turned to the side, Bas blushed when Sydnie laughed at him. He wrapped her in the towel and grabbed the glass, mumbling under his breath about getting her a refill while she dried off.
 
`Holy hell, Bas, we're in trouble.'
 
`Trouble?' he echoed as he pulled the bathroom door closed behind himself and strode over to refill the glass.
 
`If she's comfortable enough to run around naked all the time? Damn straight, we're in trouble . . .'
 
Bas grimaced then grinned as the bathroom door opened with a soft click. Moments later, he felt the clammy moisture of Sydnie's body pressed flush against his back. Sydnie hugged him tight before letting go to retrieve her clothes while Bas told his body that he did not—did not—want to drag her right back to the bed.
 
`Yeah, okay, I see your point.'
 
His youkai heaved a longsuffering sigh.
 
 
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A/N:
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OROsan0677 ------ concreteangel ------ Angelswrath ------ vvkimbo07 ------ fallenangel7583 ------ NekoKamiFL ------ ErinBerin ------ futekioosha ------ inuyashaloverr ------ 1Inuyashafan
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Final Thought fromGunnar:
Holy dogs, Bas
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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~