InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 10: Anomaly ❯ Fleeting Glances ( Chapter 14 )

Madison breezed into Evan's new townhouse that wasn't too far from his mansion out on Long Island, pausing long enough to hug Bone since she hadn't seen the big man since Evan and Valerie's wedding, before hurrying past him and into the living room with a happy squeal as she ran over to hug Valerie tight.  "How was the honeymoon?" she asked, sitting down beside her on the beautiful cream suede couch—obviously something of Valerie's choosing.  "And how's the bun?" she went on, leaning in to rub Valerie's still-relatively-flat belly.

"My Maddy!  Everything's fine, fine . . . Oh, I missed you!" Valerie breathed, almost near tears, if the expression on her face meant anything.  She sniffled and waved a hand dismissively.  "Ignore me.  I've been crying over everything the last few days.  It's awful, and if this is what I'm going to be like for the next few months . . . ugh."

"Hey, sexy," Evan remarked as he breezed into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that were so frayed and torn that it was surprising that he could still wear them at all.

Madison hugged him without standing up.  "You're the richest man on the planet.  Go buy some new jeans," she commented.

He chuckled.  "Now you sound just like V," he remarked, grabbing a beer from the wetbar and holding it up to ask Madison if she wanted one, too.  She waved him away as she turned her full attention on Valerie once more.  "Boy or girl?" she asked without preamble.

Valerie laughed.  "I don’t care as long as—"

"—the baby's healthy, right?" Madison interrupted with a giggle.

Valerie rolled her eyes and reached for the glass of milk on the coffee table.  "I was going to say as long as he or she is nothing like him," she retorted, jerking her head toward her mate with no finesse, whatsoever.

Madison's laughter escalated.  "That, too," she replied.

"I'm not that bad," Evan protested with a cheeky grin.  "I just get bored easily."

Valerie sighed, catching a lock of her honey blonde hair and hooking it behind her ear.  "You're not allowed to say that word, Roka," she reminded him.  "Ever."

Evan chuckled, picking up Valerie as though she were little more than a rag doll and sitting down with her in his lap as she shot Madison a 'So-What-Can-You-Do' kind of look.  "Five chairs, not counting the sofa, and he has to sit here," Valerie stated.  "Really, Evan?"

He kissed her cheek.  "Always gotta be near my baby," he quipped.

Valerie blinked.  "That's . . . almost sweet of you," she ventured.

"You put out more when I say shit like that," he replied.

Planting her hand in the center of his face when he leaned in for a kiss, Valerie snorted.  "Pig."

"I prefer dog," he said, voice muffled by her hand.

Madison slowly shook her head, catching her long, blonde hair in one hand and smoothing it over her shoulder.  "You two are . . . kind of disgusting," she muttered.

Valerie laughed.  "Sorry," she said, sounding anything but apologetic.  "So, what have you been doing all alone?  Anything noteworthy?  Or . . . anyone . . .?"

Madison shrugged.  "Nothing really," she said, careful to keep her tone entirely flat.

"Gin mentioned that her brother stayed in town to help Gavin with that embezzlement investigation?  She said you drove him down here with you after the wedding . . ."

Shifting slightly since she knew very well that Valerie was aware of her interest in Mikio, she gave the attorney a look that she hoped Evan didn't see, but that Valerie would interpret easily enough.

Luck was with her when Valerie raised an eyebrow and quickly turned toward Evan.  "Evan, baby . . ."

The rockstar's grin widened.  "Damn, I love it when you call me that," he said, affecting a full-body shiver that may or may not have been embellished.

Valerie smiled, leaning away just far enough to run her fingertips lightly down the center of his chest.  "You know, the baby and I were really craving some ice cream . . . I don't suppose—"

"Say no more, babycakes," Evan said, gathering her up so that he could stand before carefully setting her back on her feet again.  "Low fat artisan vanilla, right?"

Valerie laughed and kissed him on the cheek.  "That would be amazing, Roka."

He chuckled.  "Don’t suppose you'll call me baby again?"

"I'll call you daddy tonight if you bring me ice cream now," she said.

"Be right back, V," he hollered over his shoulder, grabbing a button down Hawaiian print shirt off the back of a nearby chair.  "You ladies have fun, and if you do, make sure the security camera's filming, will you?"

"Be careful, Evan," Valerie called after him, ignoring his perverted commentary.

His laughter was cut off by the closing of the front door.  Only then, did Valerie giggle. "He's such a pervert.  Do you know, he nearly got us thrown out of the hotel?  All because he wanted to run down to the ice machine at the end of the hallway naked.  The hotel staff weren't impressed in the least . . ."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Madison allowed.  “He really just doesn’t think twice about doing whatever occurs to him, whenever it occurs to him . . .”

Valerie shook her head.  "Okay, he's gone.  What?"

Letting out a deep breath, Madison bit her lip, cast Valerie an almost shy sort of smile.  "It's nothing big," she said, shaking her head.  "Seriously, just . . . I mean, I lost my apartment key—well, didn't really lose it.  I just forgot it when I went to work, and Mikio was kind enough to let me stay with him, is all, and then, when Bas came down to unlock it for me, he was checking my security, and it's apparently a little lacking, so he's made arrangements for it to be upgraded.  They should be done soon . . ." She made a face.  "And then I'm free to go back home . . ."

Valerie considered everything she'd said, slowly nodding as she tapped her index finger against her chin in a steady, thoughtful way.  "From the tone of your voice, I'm assuming that you don't want to go home . . .?" she finally ventured.

Madison sighed.  "Is it that obvious?"

Valerie laughed softly.  "You really like him, don’t you?  I mean, I can see why you would.  He's really cute . . ."

This time, her sigh was a lot longer, a lot more of what a sigh should be.  "It's . . . It's more than that," she admitted.  "I mean . . . You can't tell Evan—you can't.  V, I know you're mates, and mates are supposed to tell each other everything, but . . . please promise me.  If Evan knew . . ."

"I promise, but . . . Well, you know Evan.  He wouldn't tease you—much, anyway . . ."

Madison shook her head quickly.  "It's not that.  If Evan knew . . ." Trailing off as she made a face, Madison stood up, paced the floor.  "If Evan knew, he'd . . . He'd try to hurry things along or something.  You know how he is."

"Because you're his friend," Valerie concluded with a sage nod.  Given the trouble that he’d nearly gone to jail for with Dieter—the incident that had brought him and Valerie together, in the first place?  She, more than anyone else, would understand this part of him, even if she didn’t like it all of the time.  "Yeah, I know what you mean.  Sometimes he's a little too concerned about his friends."

"This is too important, V," Madison admitted.  "So, seriously, you really can't tell him anything."

"Okay, okay, I swear, I won't tell him anything—besides, that mates-thing, that only applies to secrets about each other, right?  And you're not us, so . . ." Snapping her mouth closed, she made a twisting motion with her fingers in front of her lips, then tossed the pretend key over her shoulder.  "Sealed."

Satisfied that Valerie really would keep her promise, Madison relaxed just a little and sat back down again.  "I've liked him forever—since the first time I saw him.  Of course, I was just a kid then—maybe two?  Three?  But he was fascinating, even back then.  And then, he'd show up every so often—holidays, weddings . . . You know . . . and it just . . . It just never went away.  There's just something about him . . . I can't explain it.  I just . . . I noticed things—little things—just . . . everything . . . Like . . . Did you know that when he smiles, he always wrinkles his nose, just this tiny bit, or when he's reading something, he squints a little . . .?" Letting out a deep breath, she scrunched up her shoulders.  "When he's talking to me, he looks at me, like . . . Like whatever I'm saying is the most interesting thing in the world, even if I know it's not . . ."

"Is he your . . . mate?"

For some reason, that question caught her off-guard.  "I-I-I . . . I want him to be."

Valerie leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands over her mouth.  "Really?"

"He's not.  I mean, not yet, but even if . . ." She grimaced.  "It's too soon, and I . . . V, they're finishing up the work on my apartment today—right now—probably.  When they finish, then I have to go back home.  I don't have any other reason to stay with him, but if I don’t . . .You don't understand.  He's so shy, and once I go home, then either I have to become the creepy chick who is basically stalking him or . . . Or he doesn't call, doesn't . . . Doesn't come by, doesn't text . . ."

Valerie's face—her expression . . . Madison winced inwardly.  "Maddy?  If . . . If a guy doesn't . . ."

"It’s not like that, V, I swear," Madison hurried on to say.  "I think . . . I think he is interested, but . . ." She sighed, rubbing her forehead.  "It's just hard to explain . . ."

Settling back, crossing her arms over her chest, Valerie waited patiently, and Madison sighed again.  "Evan said once that Mikio wasn't like the rest of the guys, you know?  Well, you probably saw, didn't you?  His balance . . . I'm not sure why . . . He just . . . has these spells, I guess?  I mean, not lately, but . . . Anyway, Evan went on to say that he doubted Mikio would ever look for his mate because he never . . . never learned how to fight or any of that, which is dumb.  What does fighting have to do with mating?"  She made a face and waved her hands.  "That came out totally wrong, didn't it?  I think—I know—he feels . . . something.  I just don't know how much or . . . or what . . ."

"So, he could be your mate," Valerie concluded.  "That's what you're saying?"

Madison grimaced.  "Maybe."

Valerie nodded slowly before hauling herself off of the sofa and heading for the kitchen with her empty milk glass.  "Well, that's easy, then.  We'll have to find another reason for you not to go home yet."

"Oh?  I'm open to suggestions."

"Well," she went on, refilling her glass and putting the milk away again.  "I'm assuming you don't want to go the direct route and just tell him you don't want to go home, and that he'll just have to deal with it . . .?"

Madison shook her head quickly, catching the bottle of water that Valerie tossed to her.  "Oh, God, I can't do that . . ."

Valerie nodded.  "Didn't think so.  So, we'll go over there and figure out how to break . . . well, something . . ."

Madison thought that over.  "There have been a rash of break-ins . . . Maybe if it looked like someone tried to break into my condo . . ."

"That could work," Valerie agreed around her glass, poking her index finger at Madison.  "Let me finish this and grab my keys."

"What about Evan?"

She shrugged.  "He's got to go back to the studio shortly anyway.  I'll just leave him a note that I'm with you, and he'll be fine."

Madison snapped the seal around the cap of the water bottle and drank down a good bit of it while Valerie swallowed the rest of her milk and rinsed the glass before reaching for the notepad and pen on the counter.

Find another way to prolong her stay with Mikio?  She could do that, couldn’t she?  After all, if she was around him long enough, he'd have to realize, wouldn’t he?

'Yes,' she thought, her determination adding an extra brightness to her gaze.  Then it would just be a matter of time . . .

Miki o knocked on the thick wood frame and waited for Bas to look up from whatever he was scowling at.  Safe to assume it was some kind of case, but he seemed to be a little more agitated than usual.  Letting out a deep breath as he finally glanced up, only to break into a very tight near-smile, the big man held up a hand, curled and uncurled his index and middle fingers to invite Mikio into his office.

"What's up?" he asked, plopping back in his chair, dropping the slim-file on the desk, rubbing his eyes in a rather weary sort of way.  The chair creaked and groaned under Bas' weight, and for a moment, Mikio had to wonder if it wasn't going to break . . .

Mikio closed the door and shuffled over to sit in one of the chairs facing the prodigious cherry desk.  Unlike Gunnar's desk, Bas' was thick, heavy, kind of like Bas himself—almost more rustic, definitely leaning toward the idea of function over form, there was very little in the way of embellishment.  The beauty of the piece was actually in the wood that was used—gorgeous graining that had been well oiled but not stained, sealed with a low gloss varnish.  It was made by Isabelle's mate, Griffin and stood a little taller than most standard desks—tailored to fit Bas, it seemed . . .

Scratching his temple, careful to keep his claws turned in, Mikio shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant sort of way. "I, uh, I . . . I thought I'd stop by, say thanks for your recommendations."

"For Maddy?  Sure . . . Is it all taken care of?"

Mikio nodded.  "They're finishing up today . . ."

"Good, then," Bas replied with an easy smile.  "You want to go get some lunch?  It's a little late, but I wasn't thinking . . ."

"Uh, well, not if you're busy . . ."

Reaching for the slim-file, Bas started to turn, to stand.  "Nah, I'll just drop this file off with Gunnar—Could see if he's eaten yet . . ."

"Well, i-i-it's just . . . before that . . ."

Settling back in his chair once more, Bas nodded.  "Okay, sure."

Mikio grimaced, fiddling with his rapidly twitching left ear.  "It's just . . . uh, Maddy . . . She'll . . . She'll go home when they're, uh, finished, and . . ."

Bas' brow furrowed as he considered what Mikio was trying to say.  "And . . . You don't want her to go home, I take it?"

"W—I-I-It's—I mean, she'll be alone, you know?  And I . . . It may not be safe.  She's a . . . beautiful . . . woman, and  . . ."

"And . . . You want advice on how to convince her that she'd be . . . safer . . . with . . . you . . .?"

"For her own good," Mikio blurted quickly, unable to staunch the flow of blood that exploded in his cheeks.

"Yeah, gotcha," Bas allowed.  "Well, that's kind of a tough one.  Maddy's a pretty independent woman."

"Y-Yeah," Mikio muttered, scowling at his hands.  "She . . . She'd be fine, right?  I mean, I'm . . . I'm probably just worried about . . . about nothing . . ."

Bas was staring at him.  He could feel the man's gaze as it drilled into his skull even though he refused to verify it.  "Then again," Bas went on, his tone taking on a philosophical lilt, "how safe is anyone, really?  She could get mugged on her way home by some random fool—I'm not saying it would happen, but it's possible—and you're right: she's very pretty."  He grimaced, squeezing his eyes closed for a second before popping one open again.  "Don't tell Sydnie I said that or she'll skin me . . ."

"Then . . . do you have any ideas?"

Scratching his chin, Bas thought it over for a minute.  "Well, you could just tell her you'd feel better if she stayed with you until the guys are caught—the ones breaking into apartments in your neighborhood."

"That . . . won't sound a little too forward or anything?"

"It's a legitimate concern."

"Y-Yeah . . ."

Bas nodded slowly.  "Anything else?"

Shaking his head, Mikio hauled himself out of the chair.  "No, that's . . . Uh, thanks."

"No problem," Bas replied as he stood up and strode toward the door.

"Hey, Bas?"

"Yeah?"

He couldn't help the grimace that furrowed his brow.  "Could you, uh . . ."

"Not tell Nutsack?"

Mikio nodded.

"That goes without saying," Bas muttered, yanking open his door and heading down the hallway and into the reception area.  "Nutsack!  You eat yet?"

"If you're talking to me, Bas-tard," Gunnar drawled without looking up from his computer monitor, "no, I haven't."

Bas grunted.  "Well, come on, then.  Besides, we need someone to pay for it."

Gunnar heaved a sigh, but stood up slowly.  "I'll pay for his, but you eat like the Jolly Green Giant," he retorted.  "Oh, wait, that's because you are . . ."

Mikio shook his head as he followed the two out of the office.  Gunnar stopped long enough to tell his secretary that she was free to leave for the day, without missing a beat as he traded insults with Bas.

"Oka y, give it a good whack!"

"Why are we doing this on the fire escape?"

"Well, because that's where someone would logically break in, and it needs to look authentic, doesn’t it?"

"I suppose . . ." Valerie swung her bent arms to and fro, stretching out her muscles before tightening her grip on the baseball bat in her hands.  Clad all in black—skin-tight black, at that, with the tiniest little baby-bump sticking out in front.  She'd even smudged eye black on her cheeks, and, along with the cute little black slouch cap with her hair tucked up under it, she was, quite possibly, the cutest cat-burglar in history.

Readying her stance, she gave herself a few warm up swings before moving a little closer to the window.

She started to swing the bat, but stopped a fraction of an inch from the glass and heaved a sigh as she straightened up and shook her head at Madison.  "I can't," she said, yanking off the cap and frowning at Madison.

"Oh, why not?  It's such a great plan!"

Valerie sighed and jerked her head.  Madison turned to look at what Valerie was pointing out, only to see a security camera affixed to the wall of the building across the way.  "Oh . . . I didn't see that there . . ."

Valerie made a face.  "Yes, well, I don't want to be on Prison Moms," she replied dryly.

Madison laughed since Valerie was talking about a sleazy so-called reality show about incarcerated women and their apparent struggles to give birth to babies while in maximum security cells.

"We should go inside," Valerie went on, peering over the edge of the railing.  "That's a long way down . . ."

Madison pushed the window open and grabbed Valerie, who was a little too close to the railing, in her opinion.  "Come on, Inmate 4566325.  You're going to topple right off of here if you're not careful."

Valerie crawled back inside and flopped down on the sofa.  "We should have waited until Evan got back with my ice cream," she said.

Madison rolled her eyes and started to retort, but the sound of the buzzer interrupted her.

Touching the panel by the door to activate the camera in the hallway, Madison smiled when Jillian Zelig-Jamison smiled up at the lens and nudged her mate, Gavin in the ribs.  "Jilli!" she greeted after she opened the door.  "How are you?"

Jillian hugged Madison before stepping past her.  "We were in the neighborhood and thought we'd stop by to see if you've got dinner plans," she explained.  "V!"

"Hey, big boy.  How's your bacon?"

Gavin grunted, pulling a small tablet out of his pocket.  "Still in the fat, unfortunately."

He sat down in one of the occasional chairs and promptly started fiddling on the tablet.

"What about you, V?  Do you and Evvie have plans for dinner?"

Valerie shrugged.  "I don't, but Evan will probably end up, back at the studio.  He told Mikey we came back early, and the two of them figured they might as well get a jump on the new record."

Jillian frowned, her natural ebullience faltering as she slowly shook her head.  "It's because of Miss, right?  What Bassie said about her . . .?"

"Yeah," Valerie allowed.  "We stopped in to see her first thing.  She's . . . She's not looking well."

"I only met her a few times," Jillian went on, "poor Daniel.  But you all will be helping Bassie, right?  I mean, I know that he and Sydnie volunteered to take him in . . ."

"I'm sure we will," Valerie said.  "After the baby's born, anyway.  That, and Bas mentioned that Dieter's family asked about maybe keeping him during the summers, too.  They don't want to take him out of the States, especially for schooling, so he'll stay here most of the year . . . Have you gotten to see her yet, Maddy?"

"I did the other day," Madison replied, settling on the arm of the sofa beside Jillian.  "I set her hair and helped her with that . . . She wanted to look pretty when Bas brought Daniel by to visit . . ."

Jillian sighed, but finally gave Valerie's hands a little squeeze.  "Even so, I'm glad you and Evvie are home—Well, I guess Maine's going to be your home after he's done doing his rockstar thing here . . ."  Cocking her head to the side, Jillian frowned at Valerie.  "Why do you have eye-black on?" she asked.

Valerie blinked, like she'd forgotten all about that for a moment.  Then she laughed.  "I was going to break into Maddy's condo," she said as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

"You . . . But Maddy's right there . . ."

"I know," Valerie replied.  "But she needs a reason to—oops!  Maddy!  I'm sorry!"

"Jillian's okay," she said with a smile.  "She won't tell Evan, right?"

Jillian shook her head.  "Tell Evvie what?"

Madison wrinkled her nose.  "To find a reason why I can't stay here," she explained.

"You don't want to stay in your own apartment?"

Valerie cleared her throat as she stood up to find something to drink.  "She was staying in a much nicer place," she teased.

"Yeah, but weren't you staying with—O-O-Oh . . ."

Madison sighed.  "That stupid security firm that he called to tighten the security here finished up today," she said.  "So . . . No reason to stay there anymore."

"And you were going to have Valerie pretend to break in so you could stay over there longer, huh?"

"That sounds about right," Valerie said, strolling back into the living room around the island counter with a beer for Gavin, wine coolers for Jillian and Madison, and a bottle of water for herself.

Gavin grunted his thanks without looking up from the digital edition of some geek magazine.  Madison took one of the coolers and twisted off the cap.  "V saw security cameras on the building across the way, though, so we can't do that—unfortunately."

Jillian thought about it as she sipped her wine cooler.

"We'll just have to think of something else," Valerie insisted.

"Well . . . if it's a security system, Gavvie might be able to mess it up . . ." Jillian ventured.  "Right, Gavvie?"

The last part of her spiel was delivered louder.  "Uh?  Oh, uh, love you, too, Jilli," he murmured.

She rolled her eyes, but giggled.

"You think he could?" Madison asked, without taking her eyes off the man in question.

"Are you kidding?  My Gavvie's the biggest geek on the planet!  Of course, he could!"

"Maybe, but do you think he would?" Valerie questioned, also staring thoughtfully at Gavin.

Jillian laughed and stood up, carefully slipping past Madison to kneel beside Gavin's chair.  "Gavvie . . ."

"Hmm?"

She reached over and tapped the button to put the tablet to sleep.

"Jilli?  Oh, are we ready to go?"

"Not just yet," she told him.  "The girls and I were wondering if you'd do something for Maddy . . ."

Glancing around almost nervously when he realized that both Madison as well as Valerie were both eyeing him very intently, he shifted his gaze back to his mate once more.  "Wha-a-a-at?" he drawled reluctantly, aqua eyes taking on a very suspicious air.

Jillian giggled.  "Nothing bad—Well, nothing too bad . . ."

"Wha-a-a-at?" he repeated.

"We need you to break her security system."

His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under the thick fringe of his bangs as he quickly shook his head.  "No.  Oh, no.  No!"

Jillian leaned in closer.  "Please, Gavvie?  It'd mean the world to her!  Please?  Please, please, please,
please, please, please, please, please, plea—"

"No way, Jilli!" he interrupted firmly.  "You can go to jail for something like that, and—"

"Girls?" Jillian said, peering over her shoulder at them, meaning clear.

"Please?  Please, please, please, please, please, please, please—" all three of them begged.

Gavin blanched, then quickly shook his head.  "It's illegal! V, don't you know this already?  You're an attorney after all . . ."

Valerie shook her head and laughed.  "Yeah, but this is for a good cause!  We're trying to get Maddy laid!"

"Maddy would like that very much," Madison agreed.  "Well, we might not have to break it . . . I mean, is there a way to disarm the system for awhile?  Say, a month or two?"

Gavin snorted.  "You want me to go to jail so you can do a booty call?  What's stopped you before?"

"This is totally on the up-and-up," Madison argued.

"Oh, come on!  This could mean the difference between Madison getting her mate or having to live a lifetime as an old spinster, unable to see even the smallest joys in life, and all because you cared more about your freedom than you did about helping a friend in need, and I think—"

"Damn, Valerie . . . Did you just go all criminal defense lawyer on me?" Gavin demanded.

"I don't know.  Is it working?"

He heaved a sigh and stood up, handing Jillian his untouched beer.  "All right, I'll look at it, but no promises.  Maybe I can do something to without . . . without having to resort to breaking about fifty laws . . ."