InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Maine ( Chapter 97 )

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

"No, Papa, I'm not overdoing it."

InuYasha snorted.  "Yeah, well, your definition and mine are probably different," he complained.

Gin smiled as she wandered toward the window, holding the telephone receiver to the side of her head.  "Honestly, I promise, I'm not.  Cain wouldn't let me, anyway."

InuYasha snorted again.

"How are Mama and Mikio?"

"He don't do much yet, and your mother—Oi, wench!  Be patient, damn it!"

"Is that Mama?"

"Keh.  She wants to say hello."

Gin laughed.  

"So how do you like your new home?" Kagome asked.  InuYasha grumbled something that Gin couldn't discern, but she figured he'd be stomping out the back door.

"It's lovely," Gin insisted.  "There are so many stars at night here, Mama!  The house is on the ocean, and the forest is bigger than Papa's . . ."

"It sounds wonderful, Gin.  Are you happy?"

Wincing at her overly-perceptive mother's careful question, Gin sighed.  "Of course I am.  It's just . . . I miss everyone."

"And we all miss you, but you know, I think I could convince your father to go on a vacation in a few months, when Mikio's a bit older."

Gin smiled a little sadly.  "Really?"

"Despite your father's gruffness, he really does miss you."

"I know.  I miss him, too."

"But you've got Cain, right?  And he makes you happy."

Her smile brightened, and Gin giggled.  "Oh, he does.  He really, really does . . . He had a special studio put in, just for us.  This place is huge, you see, and Cain said that sometimes he works late into the night.  He didn't want me to be too far away, so . . . Anyway, the new studio is kind of like a huge apartment, and I can see him from the loft if he's working."

"I'm glad."

The shrill cry made Gin wince, and she flattened her ears as the wailing grew louder.  "I'm sorry, Gin.  I'd better go.  Mikio woke up starving, and I need to feed him before he brings down the forest."

"Okay, Mama.  I love you.  Give Papa a kiss for me."

"We love you, too.  Make sure you take care of Cain."

Gin laughed.  "I will."

"Your parents?" Cain asked as Gin hung up the phone and sighed.

Gin nodded as she turned to face her husband.  Wearing only a pair of low-riding pants, Cain had streaks of grayish-brown clay on his chest and cheek though his hands were clean.  Gin caught her breath for a dizzying moment.  He didn't seem to notice.

"Thought I'd take a break."

"You're so messy," she chided as she gently brushed the dried clay from his cheek.

Cain chuckled and caught her hand to kiss her knuckles.  "You know why, right?"

"Why, what?"

"Why I'm so messy."

"Because you work in a trance?"

He wrinkled his nose.  "Nope."

"Then . . . why?" she asked, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper as he rubbed her knuckles against his cheek.

"Because you clean me up."

"You're so bad."

"I'm a dog."

She blushed.  He chuckled again.

"How are you feeling?"

She sighed at the scowl that always accompanied that question.  "Fine," she insisted, shuffling toward him and slipping her arms around his waist.  "I'm always fine."

"You should take a nap," he chided as he hugged her back.

"I don't need a nap," she argued, wrinkling her nose.  "I thought I'd watch you for awhile."

"Hmm," he mused.  "Yeah, well, that'll be pretty boring.  I've got some paperwork I've got to catch up on."

"Is Ben coming by?"

"Tomorrow."

She grinned.  "I'll make a special cake, then."

He growled.  "For Ben?  The hell you will . . ."

"We've got to talk about this jealousy of yours."

"Jealousy?"

"Yes, jealousy."

"You're my cake fairy, remember?  Ben can damn well get his own."

She giggled and tugged his arm to make him bend down so she could kiss his cheek.  "You're right, I'm yours.  Now be nice, can't you?  It's just a cake, and you know I'll make you a special one, too . . ."

"You're missing the point," he complained as he strode over to retrieve his shirt.  "You make cakes for me—just me."

"And I'll be happy to keep making cakes for just you, but you know, you've really got to share."

"I'll share my cakes about the time you start sharing your peanut butter cups."

"That's entirely different," she pointed out reasonably as she followed Cain over to the small office area of the studio.

"How so?"

Gin hopped up on the edge of the desk and crossed her ankles.  "Because the cakes I make for you are big.  The peanut butter cups you bring me are little."

"Speaking of little," he countered almost absently before opening the shallow drawer and rummaging around.  Her ears twitched as the welcome sound of rattling plastic assured her that he was, in fact, finding a bite size peanut butter cup for her.  "What do I get for this?"

Gin wrinkled her nose and leaned forward to steal a peek into the drawer.  "I don't know . . . are there more?"

"You don't really want to eat all of your candy at once, do you?"

Gin sighed and shrugged before snatching the candy from Cain's outstretched hand.  "Maybe."

"Hey, watch the claws, baby girl," he reminded her.

Gin unwrapped the tiny cup and popped it into her mouth before holding out her hand and wiggling her fingers in silent demand.  "You're youkai.  You heal fast."

"Ouch," he grumbled but dug for another candy.  "How about a kiss?" he coaxed, holding the cup away from her.

Gin tried to pry his hand open, to no avail.  "Did you buy some of those, too?"

"Pfft!"

She laughed and leaned toward him, intending to give him a little peck for the candy.  Cain was faster, dragging her off the desk and into his lap, locking his arms around her waist as he captured her lips in a long, slow kiss.  Her laughter died away as he brushed his mouth over hers, feather light strokes and the condensation of breath leaving a dew on her lips that sent a shiver down her spine.  "You're . . . such a . . ."

"Dog?" Cain supplied in a hopeful tone when Gin's words faltered.

She ducked her chin, hiding her face against the crook of his neck as his chuckles filled the room with the breathy quality that she loved.  "It's not even noon yet," she protested.

"I didn't hear you complaining about that after our wedding," he pointed out, idly running his claws up under the hem of her skirt along her hip.

"Well, that was our honeymoon . . ."

Cain snorted.  "And you were just using me for my body; I know; I know . . ."

Gin gasped, mouth falling open as she sat up straight and blinked in chagrin.  "Cain!  No, I didn't!  I never—"

"Give it up, baby girl.  I know you did.  You used me—totally used me—before I went home and then after our wedding . . . like I'm nothing better than a piece of meat."

Grimacing at the mock hurt in his tone, Gin bit her lip and shrugged.  "I didn't use you . . . I . . . I . . . borrowed you."

He almost laughed—almost.  Managing to choke back his amusement, Cain cleared his throat and made a face.  "Well, I'd never do such a thing to you, Gin Zelig . . . just so you know."

"And," Gin went on, ignoring Cain's claims in a burst of inspiration, "I returned you in the same condition that you were in when I borrowed you, to start with."

"Oh?"

She grinned, cheeks pinking though she didn't back down.  "Uh . . . yes."

He shook his head.  "I don't think so . . . see . . . once you used me, I had to have you again . . . and again . . . and again . . . and—"

"Cain!"

He chuckled as she buried her red face against his shoulder.  "You make it sound so . . . bad."

"Woof."

She giggled.  "Don't you bark at me."

"Okay.  Gin?"

"Hmm?"

"You want to . . . borrow me now?"

She gasped softly and buried her face deeper.  "I . . . oh . . . maybe."

"Maybe?" he echoed incredulously.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Do you have more peanut butter cups?"

His answer was a very loud groan.


Kichiro stood in the doorway, arms folded over his chest as he gazed thoughtfully at the woman in the middle of the floor, leaning over the laughing infant as she muttered complete nonsense in soft tones and breathy voice.

Why didn't she want one of their own?

He sighed.  It was his considered opinion that his mother had taken to leaving Mikio with Bellaniece in the late afternoon in the hopes that being around the baby would somehow convince Bellaniece that she wanted one of her own.  The practice sessions that Kagome had suddenly decided that she needed were just a nice little cover for it, not that Kichiro minded, and truthfully, Bellaniece didn't seem to mind them, either.

'That was pretty low, Kich, telling your mother about Belle's reluctance to start your family, don't you think?'

'Mama asked a question; I answered it.  It wasn't like I set out to enlist her help.'

It just didn't make sense.  Bellaniece had maintained that she wanted a family, hadn't she?  The only reason they'd said that they didn't was so that Cain would be forced to live.  Why the sudden change of heart?  And why wouldn't she tell him the real reason?

He scowled.  Just what was going on in that pretty head of hers, anyway?

"He's such a happy baby," Bellaniece mused without looking back to see if Kichiro was listening or not.  "It amazes me, just how happy he is all the time."

"I've heard him scream," Kichiro allowed, shoving himself away from the doorway and ambling over to the two on the floor.

"Sure, when he's hungry or lonely . . . but when we're sitting here playing, he's just fine."

"He's a baby."

Bellaniece laughed.  "A sweet baby!  The sweetest baby, ever!" she maintained in a high-pitched, sugary sweet tone.

Mikio gurgled and waved his hands toward Bellaniece.  She caught one of his little fists and kissed him loudly.

"Ours would be just as sweet, I imagine," Kichiro ventured, his voice carefully neutral.

"Of course they would be.  Ours would be the smartest, cutest, sweetest babies . . . but Mikio is just precious."

Kichiro sighed.  "Suppose you tell me the real reason you want to wait?"

Bellaniece's laughter died away, and she slowly sat back, amusing Mikio by idly waving her hand back and forth, his tiny fist wrapped around her finger.

"I just thought that we should enjoy our time alone," she maintained.

"You know that's not really the reason."

She looked almost guilty as she shot him a quick glance.  Kichiro caught her chin in his fingers and forced her to look him in the eye.  "Can't you tell me?"

Bellaniece flinched.  "I just . . . I owe Gin a lot, you know?  If it weren't for her, Daddy would have . . . and I know you say it wasn't my fault, but she almost . . . I just want her to be happy, too—as happy as I am."

He shook his head and let his hand fall away.  "Okay, I'm not sure if it's scarier that I almost understood that or that I'm still completely lost . . ."

She smiled sadly.  "I want to have a family with you.  I really, really do."

"But . . .?" he prompted gently.

"But . . . Do you think that Gin will tell Daddy she wants children?"

Blinking as his frown deepened, Kichiro slowly peeked up at Bellaniece.  Staring down at the infant, the sad little smile was still touching her lips, and she sighed without a sound as she brushed the bangs out of her eyes.  "What?  That's just—"

"It's not, you know.  She won't.  It's enough for her, isn't it?  Enough that Daddy chose her; that he wants to live for her.  She'd never ask him, not in a million years . . . She'll never ask him for a baby, and Daddy . . . My mother died, giving me life.  He'll never take that chance with Gin."

Kichiro sighed.  "So he'll still need an heir."

Bellaniece nodded slowly.  "It's the least I can do for her, you know?"

He grimaced, wishing that Bellaniece's words didn't make sense at all.  "So you want to wait till Gin has a baby?  And if she has a daughter?  Do we still wait?"

Bellaniece managed a thin smile though her eyes remained sober.  "Gin would be happy with a child—any child.  I just want her to have that."

"All right," he agreed grudgingly, "but I'm telling you, if Ryo comes up with some half-baked reason that he and Nez can't have pups, I swear to kami that I'll turn you over my knee if you try to put it off for them, too."

She laughed softly, scooting over to lean against him, pressing her hand to his cheek as she pulled him down for a kiss.  "This is the last time, I promise . . ."

"It had damn well better be," he grouched.  "And just remember, princess: you owe me."

"I owe you?"

"Absolutely."

She kissed his cheek and sighed.  "And I'll make it up to you, starting tonight."

"Oh?"

She giggled, pushing herself off the floor and hurrying off to make Mikio's bottle when the infant started to fuss.  "Yes."

"How?"

"I'll be your bitch," she promised, glancing over her shoulder and winking at her mate.

Kichiro smiled and reached for the baby.


Gin rolled over and sat up, knees folded under her as she stared expectantly at Cain.  "Well?"

Judiciously stifling his amusement, Cain blinked innocently and shook his head.  "Well?"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes before wrinkling her nose.  "Do you have any peanut butter cups for me?"

"What happened to good, old fashioned cuddling time after sex?" he grouched.

Gin giggled as the damp sheet fell away from her.  "I'll cuddle with you—after you give me peanut butter cups."

He groaned and rolled onto his hands and knees, nuzzling the still flushed rise of her breasts before heaving a sigh and sitting up.  "You have a one track mind, baby girl."

Running lightly down the metal stairs into the main area of the newly completed studio, Cain didn't bother putting on clothes as he headed for the desk once more with Gin close behind.  He dropped into his chair and opened the drawer, making quick work of finding the dwindling bag of Reese's miniature peanut butter cups and fishing one out for his candy-crazed mate.

"Thank you," she said happily as she snatched the candy away and slipped onto Cain's lap.

"Pfft."

She took her time, unwrapping her treat, and Cain leaned to the side, fishing another peanut butter cup out of the drawer, only this one was one of the big cups—about the size of two regular cups combined.  Gin caught sight of the yellow wrapper out of the corner of her eye and stopped, her unopened peanut butter cup falling listlessly into her lap.  "Wh-What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That."

"This?"

"Yes, that."

Cain chuckled and ripped open the package.  "Well, it's a big Reese's cup—for me."

"For . . . you?"

"That's right."

"But . . ."

Cain dropped the wrapper on the desk and started to pull the brown cup paper away from the chocolate shell.  "Looks good, doesn't it?"

"Can I have that one?" she blurted.

"No."

"I'll trade."

Cain made a show of peeking around Gin's shoulder at the small cup in her hand before looking at the big one he still held.  "Hmm, I don't think so.  Nice try, though."

"But Cain . . ."

"What?"

Her hand shot out to keep him from biting into the big cup.  "I want that one."

He stared at her for a long moment, scowling in mock concentration as he considered the situation before carefully scooping her up.  He stood and carried her across the studio to the bathroom, setting her back on her feet and turning her to face the sheet mirror over the double sinks.  "Okay, Gin, what do you see?"

She blushed as she made herself look in the mirror, apparently having forgotten that they were both quite naked.  "Um . . ."

Cain chuckled and picked the tiny peanut butter cup out of her hand before reaching around her, setting both cups on the counter.  "Okay, let me help you out here.  Now, what I see is this: tiny, little, baby girl hanyou—that's you—and big, tall, strong youkai—that'd be me."

Gin nodded, her eyes narrowing though she remained silent as Cain retrieved the peanut butter cups and held them up for her inspection.  "Now here we have an interesting comparison: tiny, little, baby peanut butter cup for the tiny, little, baby girl hanyou—that's you . . . and a big, fat peanut butter cup for the big, tall, strong youkai—that'd be me."

Her mouth dropped open as his words sank in, and Gin grabbed for the big peanut butter cup and missed.  "Cain!  That's just mean!"

He laughed.

"I think that I should have the big cup because I'm your mate."

"Do you?"

She nodded emphatically, turning and slipping her arms around his neck.  "I do."

"I explained all this to you."

Tugging on his neck as she rose up on her feet, she kissed him quickly and giggled when he moaned.  Taking advantage of his momentary bemusement, Gin grabbed the big cup then the little one for good measure, ducked under his arm, and darted out of the bathroom.

Cain growled in her wake as she broke for the stairs.  She didn't have to look back to know that he was chasing her, and she squealed as she reached the top of the landing, as his weight crashed into hers, bearing her forward against the mattress.  "Cain!"

He held her hand still and bit into the candy with a satisfied grin.

"That wasn't nice," she pouted, squirming to roll over.

Cain chuckled and leaned down to kiss her.  "Neither was running off with the candy."

Wrinkling her nose as she finished off the candy, Gin giggled as Cain sucked the melted chocolate off her fingers.  She cuddled closer to him, sighing happily as he shifted to the side without relinquishing his hold on her.  "I could stay like this forever," she admitted quietly, tracing the slight veil in the center of his chest.

He kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulders.  "Me too . . . unfortunately . . ."

Gin sat up, her smile dimming at the resigned tone in his voice.  He looked vaguely troubled, and she reached out to smooth the worried lines off his forehead.  "Is something wrong?"

He tried to smile, but it was thin, weak.  She bit her lip and shook her head, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I want you to promise me something."

"Okay," she agreed slowly.

He shook his head, pinned her with a stern look.  "I mean it, Gin.  I want you to promise me something; no questions asked—none."

"All right."

He sighed but didn't look at all relieved, flopping back against the mattress and scowling up at the ceiling.  "Tomorrow, you stay here, okay?  Don't leave the studio; not for any reason at all."

"Okay," she promised, "but why?"

His gaze slid to the side; staring at her for several long moments before he let out a deep breath and pulled her close to his side.  "I have a meeting tomorrow, and the man who's coming . . . he's not very nice.  Just promise me you'll stay here, okay?  I'll let you know when he's gone."

"You're not ashamed of me, are you?" she asked quietly.  Something about the shadows that lingered in his gaze . . . Gin shook her head and gasped when Cain rolled over, pinning her against the mattress.  The shadows dissipated only to be replaced by a surge of irritation, the unmistakable rise of anger.

"Ashamed?  Of you?  Hell, no!  I've never been ashamed, and—"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying not to flinch at the rage in Cain's contorted expression.

He grimaced and sighed then shook his head and let his forehead drop to hers.  "It's not that, Gin.  This guy . . . he's just not very nice, and . . . and he doesn't like hanyous.  He'll go out of his way to be mean to you, and I won't have it, you see?  That's all."

"It's not bad to be a hanyou," she pointed out.  "Not like it was when Papa was a pup . . ."

"I don't think there's a damn thing wrong with it," he agreed almost angrily.  "Anyway, it'd just be better if you keep yourself hidden up here till he's gone.  Promise me."

She nodded.  "I promise."

Only then did Cain finally smile, just a little.  "Thank you."

Gin closed her eyes, settled her cheek against Cain's chest—against Cain's heart.  "You're welcome."