InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 2: Defiance ❯ Mistletoe ( Chapter 18 )

~~Chapter 18~~

~Mistletoe~

 

~*~

 

 

Shifting his eyes to the side, Toga stifled the urge to sigh at the distinct tightness around Sierra's eyes—a sure sign of irritation, and he damn well knew it. “Is something wrong?” he asked in what he hoped passed for a neutral tone.

 

Sierra forced a smile and shook her head. “No . . . nothing . . . why?” She'd said it nicely—too nicely, and the sigh that he'd stifled slipped past his lips.

 

“You've been quiet the entire time.

 

She flipped on the radio. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she lied.

 

Toga grimaced. “If it's about—”

 

“I missed you this week,” she cut in quickly, a hint of accusation creeping into her tone whether she realized it or not.

 

`And there it is,' he thought with a wry smile. He'd figured that she'd get around to it sooner or later. Out of five nights, he'd only made it over to see her once, and while she'd been happy enough that he was there, he didn't miss the slightly guarded way she'd kept him at arm's length, either. “Mike thought that I could use some extra work helping with someone else's caseload.”

 

“I know,” she remarked since that was the excuse he'd given her a few times over the phone, normally when he was cancelling plans that they'd made. “So who are you working with?”

 

Toga shrugged. “A girl named Kari. She's got ten mergers due in January.”

 

Sierra hesitated before asking, “A girl?”

 

Toga turned his head, glancing at Sierra for a moment before looking back at the road. “Does that bother you?”

 

“No! Of course not! That'd be stupid, wouldn't it? It's your job, right? Not like you want to work with . . . Kari . . . or something . . . Doesn't bother me a bit!” Sierra scoffed as she concentrated on the passing countryside. She'd said the name as though it were contagious. “. . . Should it?”

 

Toga chuckled, more than a little relieved at Sierra's show of emotion. He wasn't exactly sure why it made him feel better, but it did. “Absolutely not . . . most of the time I'm fairly certain she'd just as soon smash me like a cockroach than talk to me.”

 

Sierra sighed and changed the radio station again. “Okay . . . so what about the other part of the time?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Sierra snorted. “You said `most' of the time . . . so how does she act the rest of the time?”

 

Toga frowned. She could feel his gaze on her even though he didn't appear to take his attention off the road. “Sierra?”

 

“What?” she asked mulishly.

 

He sighed. “Are you jealous?”

 

He could sense her eyes on him. Staring at him with an intensity that almost made him squirm where he sat, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and tried not to show how nervous he was starting to feel. “Should I be?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then no . . .” she assured him. Sierra tore a toll booth receipt into tiny bits of confetti. “Is she . . . pretty?”

 

A strange feeling shot up his spine—a tingling that he knew well enough was a warning. He was treading in very dangerous water, wasn't he? The trouble was that he wasn't entirely sure what answer she was fishing for. “She's not . . . ugly . . .”

 

“I see.”

 

“What'd I say?” he asked, reacting to the clipped tone of her voice.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You know that wasn't a fair question,” he pointed out.

 

She heaved a sigh. “The fact that you noticed whether or not she was pretty implies that you were looking.”

 

Toga's mouth dropped open. He snapped it closed and refused to say anything else that she could possibly turn on him.

 

“How long do you have to work with her?”

 

He took his time thinking that over, trying to figure out if she could use his answer against him. Figuring that she probably could but seeing no way around answering, he sighed. “Through January . . .”

 

“And dinner dates with her every night, too?”

 

“They're not dates,” he protested, wondering how she could make him feel like such a worm without ever raising her voice. “Sierra . . . didn't you say you trust me?”

 

She snorted. “That's not the point.”

 

“Then what is?”

 

Sierra waved her hand in dismissal. “Forget it.”

 

“You know, you could come up and meet me for dinner,” he offered suddenly, struck by a sudden inspiration, or so it would seem.

 

“Can we not talk about this now?” she asked quietly, rubbing her temples between her fingertips in an entirely weary sort of way.

 

He didn't press it, but he did sigh.

 

The rest of the drive was silent. Sierra bit her lip. `Good, Sie. Guys run when girls get jealous . . .'

 

After parking in her mother's driveway, Toga got out and ran around to open Sierra's door for her before offering his hand to help her down. She stared at his hand. The gesture somehow fit him perfectly, as though he had been brought up in another place, in a time that seemed somehow removed from the world she knew.

 

Sierra pointedly ignored his hand and climbed out of the vehicle on her own.

 

“You're still upset with me.”

 

She opened the tailgate to retrieve the bag of presents. Toga took it from her. “Nope, not in the least.”

 

He blinked at her tight tone. “That's a lie.”

 

She shrugged. “Not at all. Can we just have a nice visit?”

 

He sighed. “All right.” Staring off over the snow-topped landscape, Toga frowned and stifled a sigh. “Can you tell me how long you plan on being mad at me?”

 

Sierra picked a piece of lint off the front of her sweater. “I'm not.”

 

He didn't respond to that. He didn't have to. The expression on his face stated that he thought she was lying.

 

She brushed past him and headed for the house.

 

 

-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-

 

 

Toga had to wonder if anyone else could sense the tension that surrounded Sierra like a blanket. He'd known that she would probably mention his extended absence this week. He'd wondered if she would be upset about it. He hadn't really expected that she would be as irritated as she was.

 

Dinner had been a stilted affair, as far as he was concerned. The talk around the table had been pleasant and happy, and he contributed to it when he was asked a question, as did Sierra. Other than, `please pass the gravy,' she'd not said a single word to him.

 

If anyone else noticed it, though, they didn't comment. Maybe it was his youkai senses that made it so glaringly obvious. Even now, though, as Toga lounged unobtrusively in the doorway as everyone else gathered around the Christmas tree to open presents, he wondered if Sierra would notice if he slipped outside for awhile. He had a present for her stashed in his jacket pocket. He just wasn't sure if she would want it . . .

 

Sierra laughed as she opened a present from her mother—a fat, squirming little golden retriever pup. Toga frowned. The box had holes, and he was sure that her mother had been careful not to leave the pup in the box long. Still, the idea bothered him . . .

 

The pup lifted her nose and sniffed the air then squirmed out of Sierra's grasp. Making a beeline straight for Toga, the pup barked happily. Toga barely had time to react as the pup lunged for him. He caught her and blushed as Sierra's brothers started in with commentary about how strange it was that the pup seemed drawn to him.

 

Toga lifted his gaze to stare into her eyes. The pup whined. Toga growled low. `What's your name, pup?'

 

The pup whined again. `N-n-no n-name, Lor-rd Dog.'

 

`Let the girl name you?'

 

`Y-yes.'

 

Toga nodded and set the pup back on the floor. She scooted around his feet, whining and yipping at him.

 

“Look, Sierra . . . Toga's stolen your dog,” Mike pointed out.

 

Sierra caught Toga's embarrassed grin, and she smiled. “He has a way with dogs.”

 

“A way with dogs, eh?” Mike joked. “Guess it takes one to know one?”

 

“Then you ought to get along with her better than anyone,” Sierra shot back.

 

Mike just laughed.

 

“Oh, hey, Sierra . . . look where Toga's standing,” Carol, Kevin's wife, said, pointing above Toga's head.

 

He glanced up and stared at the tiny sprig of green leaves and white berries suspended by a red ribbon over his head.

 

“I'd kiss him for you, but I don't think certain people would like it,” Christine joked as she winked at Bill.

 

Toga didn't have to look to know that Sierra was blushing.

 

“You've got to kiss him,” Mrs. Crawford pointed out. “He's just been standing there since dinner. Pretty obvious, if you ask me. Poor boy's been fairly begging for a kiss, don't you think?”

 

“Nah . . . if he wants one that bad then he should've pointed it out himself,” Brent remarked with a frown.

 

“Will you guys stop it?” Sierra groaned. “He's from Japan, remember? He doesn't know what mistletoe means.”

 

Toga stepped back so that he wasn't directly under the dangling branch. “Better?”

 

Mike snorted. “So you don't want to kiss our sister?”

 

Why did he have a feeling that this was another of those catch-22 type questions? Toga tried to figure out a good way out of answering but came up blank.

 

Sierra threw a wad of wrapping paper at her brother and stood up to stalk over to Toga. He didn't get a chance to say anything as she leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips against his. Meant to be a quick kiss, Toga couldn't help it as he caught her and held onto her. Her body was stiff in his arms for a moment before she relaxed against him and returned the kiss.

 

She sighed softly. He did, too, but for other reasons entirely. Mindful that this was neither the time nor place for the kissing he'd like to do, Toga ended the kiss far sooner than he'd have liked. Sierra hugged him. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

 

“Don't be,” he whispered back.

 

“Good God, someone needs to separate those two,” Mike grouched loudly.

 

Sierra hid her face against Toga's shoulder but laughed.

 

The yipping pup caught his attention, and Toga made a face. “I'll take your pup out while you open your gifts,” he told her. Sierra nodded.

 

Toga didn't bother with his coat as he scooped up the pup and headed for the front door.

 

The pup barked and whined as she eyed the fluffy white blanket of snow. She turned back to stare sadly at Toga. He shrugged. “Nope . . . snow won't hurt you.”

 

He set her down despite her protesting whines. She stood still for a few moments, shivering and groaning and casting Toga sad little looks as she lifted one paw then alternated. She'd never been in the snow before, that much was pretty apparent. Toga smiled wanly and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he waited.

 

“Come on . . . you said you had to go,” he told her.

 

She yipped then whined again. `Paper-r-r,' she whimpered.

 

Toga shook his head. “No paper, pup. If you want to go back inside, then you'd better go.”

 

“Talking to the dog?”

 

Toga stiffened and turned to eye Brent. He hadn't heard him slip outside. “Sure,” Toga said cautiously. “They're not stupid.”

 

Brent didn't look impressed. Standing with his arms crossed over his chest, Brent's glower was menacing as he could make it. Toga wasn't impressed. “What'd you do to make my sister so unhappy earlier?”

 

Reminding himself that Brent was Sierra's brother and therefore, she liked him, Toga took his time before answering, irritated in the extreme that he felt like he was being called on the carpet for something entirely ridiculous. “I had to work extra hours this week . . . not that it really concerns you.”

 

Slowly, Brent moved forward to stand directly in front of Toga, obviously trying to intimidate him. “I warned you, didn't I? Don't hurt my sister.”

 

“Because I have two sisters of my own, I won't take exception to your belief that I'm trying to hurt Sierra,” Toga remarked softly. “I'm not trying to hurt her. I won't let anyone do that. I believe you'd better step back.”

 

“Or what?”

 

“Stop it! Brent! Toga!”

 

Toga didn't back away as Sierra ran out the door and down the porch steps to push her way between the two. “It's fine, Sierra,” he assured her though he didn't take his eyes off her brother, either. “Your brother was just concerned.”

 

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she glowered up at her sibling. “Brent . . . you don't need to protect me from Toga, okay? Knock it off.”

 

Brent didn't look happy about having his sister call him on his threats. “I mean it. If you hurt her, I'll hurt you.”

 

Toga didn't reply as Brent finally turned and stomped back toward the house. Sierra didn't look away until he had closed the door behind himself. “You wouldn't fight him, would you?”

 

Toga sighed. “Not if I could help it,” he answered.

 

She wasn't comforted by his answer. “What does that mean?”

 

Toga shrugged. “Do you expect me to back down from him?”

 

“What I expect is that it never comes to that.” She sighed and turned to face him, her arms folded over her chest as though she were cold though the fire in her eyes belied that idea. “You could kill him, and he doesn't know that.”

 

Toga shook his head, caught her under the chin to make her look at him. “Is that what you think? Do you really believe I'd kill a human?”

 

Her anger drained in light of his softly uttered question, and she rubbed her face and heaved a sigh before peering up at him through the thick fringe of her eyelashes. “No, I don't . . . Has your . . . your father?”

 

“That was a long time ago . . . before he took in Rin.”

 

She nodded. Her eyes were clouded with doubt, and he couldn't blame her for that. From what she had told him about her meeting with Sesshoumaru, Toga was certain that his father had tried to scare the hell out of her, and he'd succeeded. “Sierra . . . I'm not like him.”

 

She smiled—weak, wavering, but it was genuine. “I know . . .” Glancing around, she looked like she was trying to make up her mind about something. Toga waited patiently for whatever she wanted to say. “Do you want to go home? I'd just like to be alone . . . with you.”

 

Toga smiled, too. “Sounds nice.”

 

 

-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-

 

 

“She said you can name her,” Toga remarked as he watched the pup happily scampering around the floor chasing a red rubber ball.

 

Sierra grinned, lifting her head where she had been resting against Toga's chest. “Did she? Can you talk to her?”

 

He shrugged. “Sort of . . . more like I hear what she's thinking.”

 

“That's . . . weird.”

 

“Is it?”

 

“Isn't it?”

 

He chuckled. “Maybe. I'm used to it. Uncle Yasha has had dogs, too. The first one—Dammit-adopted him, I guess you could say.”

 

“Dammit?” Sierra echoed. “He named the dog—?”

 

“No. Most dogs already have names. That was what she told him that her name was.”

 

She shook her head slowly and let her temple fall against his shoulder again. “I said it before, Toga . . . your family is quite . . . eclectic.”

 

Toga grimaced. “Eclectic is a nice way of saying stark, raving mad.”

 

“I don't think they're crazy,” she argued. “Well . . . maybe a few of them . . .” She giggled. “Your father seems a little less intimidating when he's halfway around the world.”

 

Gently rubbing her back with his knuckles, Toga winced at the reminder and sighed. “I'm sorry. I really didn't know he was going to do that . . . I suppose I should have . . .”

 

She laughed softly and snuggled a little closer. “It's all right. I'm sorry my brother was being mean to you.”

 

Toga chuckled. “I think I'll live.”

 

She wiggled around to scoot up and kiss his chin. “Do you want your present?”

 

“More of those?” he asked hopefully.

 

She giggled again. “You're so cheap . . .”

 

“Don't knock it.”

 

She sat up, bracing her hands against his chest, and untangled herself from him before retrieving the last two packages under the tree. Handing him the presents, she sat back down between his legs and waited.

 

He sniffed at them. She laughed. He tore away the festive wrap and opened the velvet jeweler's box to stare at the small gold bar tie tack. “Thank you.” He made a face. “Trying to remind me of work?”

 

She snorted. “Hardly . . . I may have to come by and see you one of these days . . .”

 

“You want to catch a glimpse of Kari, you mean?”

 

She didn't deny it. “Open your other present.”

 

He did and laughed when he pulled the stuffed black dog out of the box. “Is this what you think I look like?”

 

She shrugged. “No . . . maybe a little . . .”

 

He let her take the stuffed animal and smiled as she wrapped her arms around it before settling back against his chest again. “I think you bought that for yourself,” he accused.

 

She didn't deny it.

 

“Do you want your present?”

 

She leaned away to stare at him. “Yes!”

 

Toga pulled the small box out of the sofa cushions where he'd hidden it earlier. She stared at the box through narrowed eyes, as though she wasn't sure what to expect and was reluctant to find out. “Open it.”

 

She did, hesitantly. She got the paper off and stared at the wine colored velvet jeweler's box for a moment. “Toga . . .”

 

“You can't say you don't like it if you don't look at it first,” he pointed out.

 

She flipped the lid back and shook her head slowly as she gazed at the strand of pearls in the deep red silk. “It's beautiful.”

 

He took the box and pulled out the necklace. Working the clasp and carefully draping it over her neck to fasten it, Toga smiled. “It's not beautiful. It's just a necklace. You're beautiful.”

 

She stared at him, her eyes oddly bright. He reached out, stroked her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Toga.”

 

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against hers as her eyes fluttered closed, as she sighed. “Merry Christmas, Sierra.”

 

 

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~* ~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~

A/N:

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Final Thought from Toga:

Merry Christmas …

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Defiance): 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~