InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Patchwork Family ❯ A Baker without Fear, and a Close Call ( Chapter 25 )

A/N: All Inuyasha characters and references belong to the creator of Inuyasha, Rumiko Takahashi and published by Shogakukan. Any other characters are more than likely my own creation. If I borrow from another story I will do my best to make sure I give credit where credit is due. I will also be pulling some material (direct ideas and inspirations mostly, rather than exact material) from Burn Notice, Scorpion, the Greywalker series, Supernatural, and Lockwood & Co.

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Rosalind opened her eyes with a start, feeling a crash of thunder shake the house. A moment later she was aware of the consistent shushing of heavy rainfall against the window. She let out a long sigh and rolled over to squint at the small glowing blue numerals next to the bed. The clock read 6:04 a.m. It wasn’t quite as early as she’d woken yesterday. Really, considering the hours she was used to, and the roaring thunder, it was amazing she’d slept this late. She lay, listening to the rain for a few minutes before she climbed out of bed.

She shuffled into her little bathroom and brushed her teeth and hair. Turning on a lamp she saw her new clothes still folded neatly on the dresser. She wanted to wear them, but it hardly made sense to put on new clothes considering the plans she had for the morning. With a regretful sigh, she pulled out a faded blue crew neck t-shirt with a twice mended tear on the shoulder where it always caught on a rising rack at the bakery. The same faded, torn jeans from yesterday would do, and she slid on a pair of brand new thick white socks. At least her feet would feel fancy.

She tied her hair back in a curly, sloppy bun on top of her head and flipped the small lamp on by the mirror. Her reflection regarded her, nose twisted in distaste. She looked rumpled, worn, and tired. She’d gotten to bed late, and then woken up several times in the night with images from events long gone swimming in her mind and heart. All this business with Naraku, and with Kagome, had brought a few monsters of her own clawing to the surface from the unmarked graves in which she’d deeply buried them. She sighed and dabbed a little concealer around her eyes, a bit of metallic brown shadow on her lids, and a little black liner across the top lashes.

Another crash of thunder rolled over the house and she put her things away. Padding down the hallway, she listened to see if anyone was awake. The house was quiet, and the front door to Sesshomaru’s sitting room was still open, as it had been when she’d left it the night before. She poked her head in, wanting to check on Rin before she went to the kitchen. She knew the little girl wasn’t fond of storms, though she was finally growing out of actually being afraid of them.

Sesshomaru’s bedroom door was open and dark. Carefully, she tip toed across the sitting room and pushed Rin’s bedroom door open. Rin was curled up in a tight little ball under the quilt. Rosalind lifted the stuffed dog from the place on the floor where he’d fallen and placed him back near the little girl, pulling the quilt up where it had slipped down her arm. She knelt for a moment next to her, watching her sleep, marveling at how she’d grown since Rosalind had moved out, and at the same time, the way she still looked so much the same as she had when she was two years old. Axel was a heap of black fur on the end of the bed, and he thumped his tail once before letting loose a great yawn.

Rosalind laid a kiss on the girl’s hair, gave Axel’s ears a scratch, then tip toed back out of the room. When she pulled the door closed and turned to leave the sitting room, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She gasped in surprise and fell back; nearly knocking into a large bookcase against the wall. Sesshomaru stood, leaning against the door frame, eyes glinting in the darkness. As she let go of the bookcase and steadied herself, she whispered anxiously, “Sesshomaru?” She squinted in the dark, almost sure it was him. The tall figure stepped closer and she recognized the silver hair and full, smooth voice. “Apologies, I didn’t intend to frighten you.”

She shook her head slowly. “No, it’s alright, just… make some noise or something next time. I think you took five years off my life.” She stood a moment with her hand over her hammering heart before Sesshomaru observed quietly, “it is early.”

Rosalind shrugged and said with a small smile, “I’m used to it. I had to be in the kitchen at work by four at the latest to get the oven heating and start dough. I hope I didn’t wake you up; I just wanted to check on Rin. I’m amazed she’s sleeping through this storm.”

Sesshomaru shook his head. “I was awake; I sleep only a few hours most nights.”

Rosalind looked up at him, somewhat fascinated at the way the gold in his eyes almost seemed to glow a little in the dark. She’d seen it before, but it had been a long time. Realizing she’d been staring at him, she licked dry lips and asked awkwardly, “Uh… any requests for breakfast?”

Sesshomaru shook his head. “What you wish to make will be fine.” She wasn’t used to that kind of free reign at all. She’d always had to adhere to someone else’s menu at the bakery. She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced around the dark room. “Well… ah… I guess… I’ll just go then. I’ll be in the kitchen… if you need me.”

The demon watched her curiously as she carefully picked her way across the dark room and back out into the hallway. Her scent had changed slightly as she’d looked around at the shadows. It had been a small change that was equal parts fear and nerves, and he wondered what had caused it. He didn’t have any memory that the girl had feared the dark. As a child, she’d been notably unafraid of almost anything, least-wise a dark room.

He looked in on his sleeping daughter before he followed Rosalind. He was surprised to see the pocket doors that lead to the kitchen had been pulled closed. He slid one of the doors open and Rosalind looked up from where she was dragging one of the 50 lb. bags of flour off the stack she’d bought the day before. He frowned. “You should ask for help.”

She scowled right back at him and hefted it into her arms. “Baloney, I lift these at work all the time. How do you think I got the freight into my flour bins?”

Ignoring her, Sesshomaru lifted the sack from her arms and set it on the counter. Rosalind sighed and strode back across the kitchen to close the pocket doors he’d left open. When he raised a brow she explained, “I’m making bread. The room is chilly so I have the oven on with the door cracked to raise the air temperature. Yeast doesn’t like the cold.”

He nodded his understanding and saw her cheeks flush a little pink as she looked at him. Now that she was seeing him in the warm light of the lamp over the stove, she realized he was dressed exactly as he was the night before, in nothing but lounge pants. Rosalind tore her eyes away from the smooth skin that covered his chest and disappeared into the big pantry closet. She dug around for a minute until she found an unused plastic storage bin with a lid.

Sesshomaru stood with his arms crossed, watching as she scrubbed it clean. To his surprise, she handed the dripping container to him with a small towel. “If you’re going to hang out here you can dry this for me.”

Her eyes flicked to his own, as if to gauge his reaction to the order. He smirked, taking the bin and towel. As he dried it she pulled the bag of flour to the edge of the counter. He watched as she pulled out eggs, milk, and a block of yeast from the refrigerator. She moved back and forth, gathering other containers and ingredients, placing them all in some kind of order along the edge of the counter. When the bin was completely dry he tossed the damp towel at her as she was turning, and she surprised him by plucking it easily out of the air and tossing it over one shoulder. She took the bin from him with a quiet, “thanks.”

He crossed his arms again as she used a utility knife to slice open the top of the big bag in one practiced stroke. Retracting the blade, the knife went into her back pocket while she slid the bag forward to hang a little off the counter. She bit her lip as some of the flour dropped into the bin with a soft thump and a puff of white dust. She looked up at him and admitted hesitantly, “maybe I didn’t think this one through completely. Could you hold the bin up higher? This is how I did it at work, only there I have full size garbage cans with wheels that I use. If I just let it drop that far there’s going to be flour everywhere.”

Sesshomaru did as she asked, holding the bin up to the edge of the counter while she let the flour pour out in a soft, white torrent from the bag. While she rolled the empty bag up for the burn barrel, he set the full bin on the counter. Taking up a position on one of the stools, he settled his elbows on the counter and watched in silence while Rosalind haphazardly tossed ingredients into a large mixing bowl, often without pausing to measure anything closely. Her hands moved quickly, with conviction and deftness born of much practice. He watched as she kneaded the mass of dough on the flour covered counter.

As she worked, he was forced to admit, to himself at least, that she probably could have managed that bag of flour. Though she wasn’t very big, her arms and shoulders were toned and strong from working dough every day for the last several years. She rolled the first ball of dough out on the floured counter top, slathered it with butter, coated it liberally with cinnamon, brown sugar, and white sugar, then rolled it tightly from one end. As she turned the dough, he saw the insides of both her wrists had dark lines of scarred skin about a half inch wide and two or three inches long. He frowned and a hand shot out to grasp one of her wrists, turning the scar so he could better examine the mark as he asked critically, “what is this?”

Rosalind jumped as he grabbed her, knocking some of the flour from the edge of the counter all over the floor. She looked down at her wrist where he held her and said, a little defensively, “they’re just bakers scars.”

Intense gold eyes flicked from the marks on her wrist to her own green gaze and he lifted one brow, silently demanding a better explanation. She sighed and pulled her arm back, out of his grasp, tracing one of the scars with a fingertip before she said, “the biggest gas oven we have at the bakery is a little tall for me. My arms aren’t quite long enough to reach easily. I use long handled pliers to grab the pans in and out but a lot of times I wind up touching the edge of the metal door with my wrist by accident.” She reached an arm up and imitated the movement in the air, grasping an invisible handle and then reaching over it, “see, the door pulls downward toward me, like this, but it’s up about four feet in the air.”

Sesshomaru was still frowning when he asked, “and your supervisor knows this is a consistent problem?”

She smiled a little and shrugged. “Yes, Gerard has the same scars I do. He isn’t much taller. A lot of the bakers I know have scars just like these ones in various places on their wrists and arms. They just become marks of the trade. It’s really nothing extreme. They don’t hurt.”

Rosalind paused then, hands sticky with butter and sugar. She looked around the kitchen, pursing her lips in thought. Then she turned to Sesshomaru and asked, “I don’t suppose you use dental floss?”

Confused by the question, his frown eased and he shook his head. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.” He bared his teeth a little in a strange smile, giving her a good look at his fangs, then said, “but there’s some in my bathroom for Rin, why?” She swallowed, reflecting that any floss brought near those pearly whites would likely just be sliced in two. The red head looked at her roll of dough, calculating, and asked, “could you get me about an 18 inch stretch of it?”

Mystified, the demon retrieved the floss and returned, making sure this time to close the pocket doors behind him. When he returned, Rosalind was standing with her back to him, washing her hands at the sink and he noticed, amid a few strands of dark red hair that had come loose from the knot she’d tied it in, there was a dark mark on the back of her neck. He frowned and went closer, trying to see what it was. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder as he came near. She dried her hands on a dish towel and raised a brow at the frown on his face.

As he handed her the floss he asked, “what’s that on the back of your neck?”

She looked confused for a second, raising a hand to her neck, then rubbed the back of it, realizing what he must be talking about. She dropped the towel on the counter and shrugged. “That one’s just a tattoo. I got it a few years ago.”

Sesshomaru looked perplexed and she tried not to giggle at the expression. It was a strange look for him. She crossed her arms a little defensively, though she was still smiling. “What’s the matter?” She adopted a thick, and very convincing Irish brogue, “do ye not think a nice young lass ought be makin’ such marks on the skin the Lord gave her?”

He blinked at her a moment and now she did let out a small laugh. His features relaxed into a small amused smile and he shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking that. I didn’t realize you got a tattoo. What is it?”

She turned her back to him again, lifting her hair out of the way to let him take a closer look. In plain black ink, typed in a plain, sans serif font, were the words ‘Gan Eagla’. She felt him step closer as he looked down at the words, and tried to ignore how self-conscious it made her feel suddenly. She dropped her hair and turned back around, stepping back to her dough at the counter.

Sesshomaru made a small, considering sound and moved back to his stool. He watched a moment, searching his mind for information as she slid the floss easily under the roll of dough, then quickly pulled and crossed it in such a way that it sliced a neat medallion, spiraled with cinnamon and sugar. The smell of it filled his nose and he found it pleasant. He speculated that she must prepare these often, as the cinnamon smell was something he’d associated with her own personal scent for years now, without consciously realizing it.

Finally he admitted a grudging defeat and asked, “what does it mean?”

Rosalind looked up briefly from her work, “gan eagla?”

He made an affirmative sound and she went on. “it’s old Irish. It means ‘without fear’.”

Sesshomaru considered this and she smiled in satisfaction as several more medallions of sweet dough came away easily. As she greased a huge stoneware baking dish with butter and set the rolls into it she asked curiously, “all the languages you speak, and you were stumped by a little Gaelic?”

His expression shuttered again and she realized his having to ask for a translation had irritated him. Inwardly, she reflected that it might be good for him to occasionally be reminded that he didn’t know everything. “I’ve never had reason to examine the Celtic languages. I’ve never been to Ireland and have never done business with anyone based there,” he explained stiffly.

Rosalind set the stoneware dish onto the warm stove to rise for a few minutes and leaned against the counter, looking at him thoughtfully, arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve never been there either. I suppose I had some family on the island. But I’m not certain they’re still there. I’ve seen a lot of photos. From what I can tell, it’s a beautiful place.”

Suddenly the comment Miroku had made a few days before came back to her; his suggestion that she mention to Sesshomaru her desire to travel. She considered the notion and discarded it. She would travel, but she would find a way to do it on her own. It wasn’t his problem.

When she refocused on the here and now she found Sesshomaru was watching her curiously and she adopted a timid smile, deciding a change of subject was in order. “Is a meatless breakfast alright or do you want me to fry up some bacon? I was planning on serving the cinnamon rolls with a bowl of oatmeal and apple, walnuts on the side, since we have a few that like them and a few that don’t.”

Sesshomaru considered this and said, “bacon would be appreciated.”

She flashed him a knowing grin. “That’s kinda what I thought.” She bustled from one end of the kitchen to the other, tossing a flat of bacon in a skillet to sizzle and putting milk in a sauce pan to heat while she diced up three apples. As she added the apples carefully to the hot milk she glanced at the clock and said, “it’s five after seven, are you going to go wake up Rin or do you want to watch the stove while I do?”

He stood from the stool, surprised at the time that had passed while he’d watched her cook. Something about it had made him feel calm inside, in a way more comfortable, more relaxed than he was used to. In a way it was almost restful. “I’ll wake her.”

Sesshomaru turned on the small lamp by Rin’s bed and sat down, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Time to get up.” She rolled over, squinting in the light and sighed, barely conscious. He smiled and said, switching to Japanese, “Sore wa me o samasu tame no jikan, watashi no kodearu.” ‘It is time to wake, child of mine.’

She continued to squint at him sleepily murmuring softly, “you smell kaori.” ‘good’

His lips twitched in an amused smile at her sleepy mixing of the languages. “After you dress, you can see the surprise Rosalind made you for breakfast.”

The girl’s eyes opened a little more and she sat up, giving him a groggy hug and crawling out of bed. Rin went to her closet and stared at her clothes for a moment before pulling a sweater from a hanger. She’d begun choosing her own clothes two years before, and now only had to be reminded every once in a while that something wasn’t warm enough, or that something wasn’t meant to be worn with something else.

They met Miroku and Sango in the hallway with Shippo, Shiori, and Kohaku following, in varying states of wakefulness, but dressed for the day. Sango looked at Sesshomaru askance when they reached the front hall. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen these doors closed. I didn’t even know there were doors.”

He nodded once. “Rosalind needed the kitchen warm for bread dough.”

Sango nodded, making a quiet sound of understanding, and pulled the doors open. The group trailed in behind her, sniffing appreciatively at the smell of apple, cinnamon, sugar and bacon. Sango ushered the kids into chairs at the table, setting up Rin’s old booster seat for Shiori. The young woman came over and squeezed Rosalind from the side in a hug. “I love you forever, you wonderful woman. I never have the energy to do anything more extravagant than cereal in the morning. It smells fantastic.”

Rosalind laughed and grinned. “Go ahead and take the rolls out of the oven. They’re small ones, so I think they’re done. Rosalind fished a platter and a large serving bowl from the cupboard. One was filled with hot cinnamon rolls, and the other with the warm apple oatmeal. A third plate was filled with bacon and all was taken to the center of the big table.

Sango busied herself with getting everyone dishes, silverware and napkins and they all sat down to eat. After they were set up with breakfast she refilled the kettle and brought her mug of tea with her to sit down. There was a contented quiet for a few minutes as they all sat in the warm kitchen, filling empty bellies and waking sleeping minds.

Sesshomaru noted with some disapproval that Rosalind had only picked at a small bowl of oatmeal, a faraway look in her eyes half the time. Everyone else enjoyed her food immensely. Gabriel, Koga and Ayame joined them ten minutes later, equally glad to see the spread that was ready on the table. Rosalind smiled into her tea as she watched all the guys take third servings of bacon, and gave herself a mental pat on the back for remembering to make enough. After another few minutes went by she glanced at the clock. “Inuyasha’s sleeping in I guess. He looked like he needed it.”

Koga snorted and looked like he was about to say something obnoxious, but he checked himself and just took a drink of his coffee instead. Rosalind had flashed him a look that said clearly, ‘Not at my breakfast table you don’t.’

This didn’t go unnoticed and though there were several amused grins among the adults, and even a quiet snort of laughter from Kohaku, no one said a word. Sesshomaru raised a brow just slightly and met her eyes, smirking. He was a little impressed. He’d never seen a human woman, brandishing nothing but cinnamon, sugar, and a cup of tea, subdue an adult male demon’s cranky morning attitude. He finished chewing his bacon and said, “I don’t know precisely what Inuyasha’s plans are for today.”

Gabriel set down his coffee and said, “we got a buddy bringing in his Shelby today at the shop. At the last cannonball Inuyasha said he’d work on it again. If he doesn’t, Hiroki’s going to be pi-.” he paused, clipping off the word he’d been about to use, glancing at the kids and changing his choice with a sheepish grin, “…upset, he’ll be very upset.”

Sesshomaru set down his own tea and said, “whatever the case may be, I need everyone here at 9:30 tonight. We need to sit down and figure out what we know, what’s to be done, and what we need to do it.” He waited to see if anyone had any protests, but they all just nodded grimly.

They talked for a few minutes more before Sango and Miroku gathered the kids to leave for work and school. Koga and Ayame rose to leave as well but Sesshomaru stopped them. “I know you both have business out of town today. Do you have enough time to follow them and run a quick check around the school before you leave?”

They looked at each other and nodded. Koga flashed a cocky grin, tossing his keys in the air and catching them again, “Sure thing. I’ll call you and let you know when I have the all-clear.” Sesshomaru nodded his agreement, reminding Koga to be inconspicuous as was possible, and the wolves left. Sesshomaru looked at Gabriel then, clearly waiting for his report. The lion demon flashed a fanged grin and said, “I’m free if you need me for a few hours. After I touch base with Inuyasha about Hiroki’s ride and stop by that house by the southern boundary line, I’ll head into the garage.”

Sesshomaru considered for a moment. “It would be wise to run a perimeter check here again, quietly, while the others are leaving. Keep an eye out for anything or anyone tracking the activity. It’s best to be careful, given the fact we’ve had traitors in our midst.” Gabriel put his dishes in the dishwasher before he dropped a relaxed salute and strode out the front door.

Rosalind sighed softly and stood, gathering the detritus of the meal to put things away. Sesshomaru watched her for a few minutes before he said, “breakfast was very good. Why didn’t you eat?”

She paused with the dishes in her hand for a moment before she shrugged and slid them into soapy water. “I wasn’t that hungry.” When Sesshomaru’s expression didn’t ease she added lamely, “I ate some while I cooked.” Her smile was small and halfhearted and he wondered what it was she was keeping to herself. Cautiously he asked, “are you unwell?”

Rosalind sighed heavily and dished the last of the apple oatmeal into two bowls. She set them on two plates, the first with two small cinnamon rolls, and the second with four. As she covered the whole thing with plastic she said, a little defensively, “I’m great, just… not hungry this morning. Why does it matter?”

There was silence for a long minute before Sesshomaru stood from the table and slid the dishes to the end of the counter where she couldn’t fuss with them. He waited until she met his frowning eyes and responded simply, “it matters.”

Rosalind licked suddenly dry lips and swallowed nervously. She couldn’t remember him ever looking at her, talking to her quite this directly before, not with this level of intensity. She wasn’t certain how to respond. When she didn’t say anything and he smelled that hot metal tang of upset began to taint her scent, he realized how close to her he was standing, how she was backed up against the corner of the counter, and how much smaller she was than him. He could see the muscles in her face stiffening as she began to shut down again, just as she had the morning before. Without meaning to say it aloud, he muttered under his breath, “…hetakuso,” cursing himself for an idiot.

He stepped away for a moment to get his frustration under firm control, then turned back to her. Rosalind’s eyes widened a little when he took the hand she’d laid on the counter in his and carefully steered her over to sit in a chair at the end of the table. She sat, watching uncertainly as he took her empty mug and went to the kettle on the stove. Watching his hands pour more hot tea into her cup was strange, but fascinating somehow. It was an odd contrast to see such a pair of hands, strong with a history of both tearing things apart and building things up, pouring a cup of tea in such a careful, deliberate way.

When her mug was full he set it down on the table, then took the chair next to hers. She bit her lip, murmuring a quiet, “thanks.” She hadn’t seen him act quite like this for years, and it unsettled her a little. Was he upset with her for something? Was he going to make her leave? She couldn’t leave… Her mind raced irrationally and her chest and shoulders began to tingle with her anxiety. She recognized the feeling and she closed her eyes, concentrating on pulling air in and out of her lungs, privately berating herself. ‘Not right now… I can’t do this right now. Stop it!’

Sesshomaru’s frown deepened as she sat with her eyes closed for a long moment. He didn’t have to rely on his ears; he could see that her breathing pattern had altered. With concern, he asked, “what’s wrong?”

Rosalind pulled in a long breath, opened her eyes, and shook her head. She took a sip of her tea and said quietly, “nothing. I’m alright.”

Sesshomaru studied her, clearly unconvinced. Finally he said, “I was not trying to upset you.” She shook her head, adopting a small, tight smile. “You didn’t.” At his expression of obvious disbelief she amended her statement. “I mean, you did- but it wasn’t you. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He was still frowning, and she considered his dark expression thoughtfully. Trying to lighten the mood a little she said, “you know, my aunt would have said you should be careful or your face will get stuck like that.”

Sesshomaru blinked at her for a moment before he realized she was teasing him. He relaxed slightly and sat back in his chair as her lips twitched into a small smile again. He released a sigh of mild exasperation. “What I meant, is that the people who rely on you care for you a great deal, and also that you can do nothing to help anyone if you don’t care well enough for yourself. Kagome is not the only one looking a little underweight.”

He felt like he was floundering, trying address the problem but not wanting offend or insult her, and it wasn’t a feeling he was at all used to. Normally he said what needed to be said, and if it hurt someone’s feelings, that wasn’t his problem. But somehow with Rosalind it was different. Every time he realized it was him that had somehow upset her, it made something in him go uncomfortably off-kilter.

Her smile warmed a little and she nodded, taking another sip from her mug. “Point taken. I’ll try to eat more.” He nodded and Rosalind sipped her tea, waiting until he left the kitchen. When she was finally alone she let out a breath of relief and put a hand to her chest, where thankfully, the tingling sensation had faded. That had been a close call.

Rosalind closed her eyes again and rubbed her face wearily. She had to keep better control of herself. Just because he’d been looking closely at her, telling her in his own, limited way that he gave a flying flapjack about her well-being, just because he’d been so close to her in that corner, there’d been no reason to freak out like that. It didn’t happen like this all the time, and so on the occasions when it did, it often took her by surprise. A panic attack, here of all places, was just ridiculous. There was nowhere safer to be than home at Shore House. She swallowed again and opened her eyes. ‘Rosie O’Banion…’ she thought to herself, ‘get a grip.’