InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Too Easy ( Chapter 5 )

~~Chapter 5~~

~Too Easy~

 

Bas stifled a frustrated growl as he tapped his foot impatiently and tried to figure out just how to convince the irrational woman to comply. Arms crossed over her chest with a mulish scowl on her pretty features, she gazed around in a rather bored manner as she slowly lifted her eyes to him once more.

 

“Hurry up, will you? Just pick some clothes so we can get moving.”

 

“I don't like anything in here,” she informed him.

 

“Seven outfits, Sydnie.”

 

“Seven?”

 

“Yes, seven.”

 

“I told you, I don't like the clothes here.”

 

Striding over to the nearest rack, Bas jerked down the first dress he saw. “This one will do,” he growled as he reached for another.

 

“I am not wearing that,” she warned as she glared at the floral print, knee-length dress.

 

“If you won't pick out some clothes, then I will, and if I do, you probably won't like them. Now get moving, will you? We should have been on the road hours ago.”

 

She opened her mouth to retort then snapped it closed as an entirely . . . catty grin surfaced on her face. “You haven't been laid in awhile, have you?”

 

Unable to staunch the flow of blood that darkened his cheeks to a ruddy hue, Bas blinked and squeaked out something between an outraged squeal and a frustrated growl. “That is none of your business,” he grumbled as Sydnie, wisely choking on her laughter, quickly turned away before she burst out laughing, right in his face.

 

`She's got to be the single most impossible woman ever created,' he fumed, jamming the dress back onto the rack before pinning her with the fiercest glower he could muster—entirely unsatisfactory since he could tell his face was still flushed. Between her outrageous line of questioning and her desire to challenge him at every turn, he figured that if it had been safe to fly back to Maine with her, he would have hustled her onto the first plane out . . .

 

Unfortunately, that really wasn't an option.

 

Worried that the human authorities were also searching for her, Cain had left explicit instructions that Bas was to drive back with her. “It would look suspicious,” Cain had maintained this morning while Sydnie was in the bathroom, “if you were hightailing it back here. Better to take your time . . .”

 

“Take my time?” Bas echoed incredulously, glowering at the rumpled sheets that still smelled like the girl who had slept there. “Dad—”

 

“You're pretty good with people,” Cain went on, ignoring his son's reluctance. “Maybe you can get her to talk.”

 

“About what?”

 

“You said she told you that she killed Cal Richardson?”

 

“She did, but . . . I don't know. I don't believe her.”

 

Cain didn't reply right away, and when he did, Bas grimaced. “So you like her?”

 

“It's not like that, Dad. It's just . . . call it gut instinct . . . she's not a murderer.”

 

“Well, if you don't think she did it, do you think that you can get her to talk?”

 

“Thought that's why you wanted me to bring her in.”

 

“It is, and I do. Since you'll be traveling with her, though, I thought maybe you could try to get something out of her.”

 

Bas sighed, rubbing his eyes with a weary hand. “I can try.”

 

“Okay. Call me in a couple of days. Let me know how it's going.”

 

“Will do.”

 

And he'd hung up just as Sydnie, wrapped in a thin hotel towel, came padding out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry . . .

 

Of course, then she'd pitched a fit about going clothes shopping, but there was no way in hell Bas was letting her run around for God knew how long in skirts that barely covered her and shirts that revealed more than they concealed.

 

“I tell you what, puppy,” Sydnie said, snapping Bas out of his recollections as she idly pushed hangers aside on a rack of skimpy summer dresses. “I'll humor you with the clothes if you'll humor me in return.”

 

“Humor you?” he repeated dubiously. “And just how will I humor you?”

 

She shot him another catty grin before turning her attention back to the rack in front of her. “I think you need to get laid.”

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth together as he counted to twenty—then on to fifty for good measure. “I think you need to mind your own business.”

 

“You said that you were taking me to Maine, right? That means that we'll be traveling together awhile, and if you're this grumpy now, I can just imagine how bad you'll be in a week or two. You need to get some ass; that's all there is to it.”

 

He wasn't sure if he were more shocked that she was actually suggesting that she would help him find a willing girl or that she was able to discuss such things in a thoroughly nonchalant manner. Either way, it didn't bode well for him, and he snorted. “Yeah, my sex life is none of your concern.”

 

“Do you even have a sex life, pretty boy?”

 

Taking the time to count to twenty again, Bas slowly shook his head. “I could have sworn I told you that it's none of your business.”

 

“Relax, Bas the Hunter. It's not like I'm saying you have to jump into bed with me . . . I'm sure we can find someone you can handle . . . a librarian or something.”

 

The color that rushed to his cheeks this time had more to do with anger than it did embarrassment. Bas could feel his jaw ticking and wondered if she were trying to nerve him on purpose. “Just pick out some clothes, Sydnie,” he gritted out between his clenched teeth.

 

“Is this really necessary?” she asked with a sigh. “This all looks so . . . domestic.”

 

Rolling his eyes at the disgust evident in her tone at the very idea of being `domesticated', Bas shifted his jaw to the side, lips pursing as he reminded himself that he didn't dare yell at her in front of everyone in the store. “Look, it's cold where we're going. You'll be sorry if you don't have something warmer to wear.”

 

A sudden scowl crossed her features, more of a thoughtful frown than a show of displeasure, and she slowly turned to regard him. “Bas?”

 

“What?”

 

“It snows there, doesn't it? In Maine?”

 

He frowned, too. “Snow? Yeah . . . `course it does.”

 

He wasn't sure how to interpret the strange glint that lit behind her sparkling green eyes. “I've never seen snow,” she finally admitted, her voice soft, husky—caressing.

 

Mentally brushing aside the distinctly pleasant shiver that ran down his back as her voice flowed over him, Bas shrugged. “Guess it doesn't snow in LA.”

 

“That'd be a crime, wouldn't it?”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, relaxing just a little. “You've never been out of LA before?”

 

Sydnie pulled a short little wool sweater dress off the rack and held it in place with her chin as she stretched out her arm to measure the length of the sleeve. “Nope.”

 

Bas' frown shifted into a thoughtful scowl. “Not ever?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“The white one would be prettier on you,” he commented absently.

 

She shot him a quick glance. “White stains too quickly.”

 

“So just be careful not to spill on yourself.”

 

Sydnie stared at the sweater dress for a moment before casually slinging it over her arm. “Fine, but only because I'll get to tell you that I told you so when it gets ruined.”

 

“Does it matter? I'm paying for it.”

 

He regretted the words almost as quickly as they came out of his mouth. Sydnie's back stiffened and the tell-tale wash of color filtering into her cheeks told him before she spoke that he'd managed to offend her—again.

 

“I don't need your charity, pretty boy.”

 

“It's not charity, Sydnie.”

 

“Yeah, well, whatever you call it, I don't need it.”

 

Grimacing, he watched as she jammed the sweater dress back onto the rack and stalked away. Bas stifled a frustrated growl and grabbed the abandoned dress before running after her, catching her arm to stop her. “How did that offend you?” he asked, careful to keep his voice down.

 

Her eyes were bright, scathing, as she slowly lifted her chin to glare at him. “I've taken care of myself for years. I don't need some puppy to come along and think that he can toss around a few bucks to make me forget that there really isn't anyone else I can depend on. Just step off, Bas the Hunter. I don't need you or your sympathy.”

 

“I'd hardly call it sympathy, Sydnie. You make it damn near impossible to feel sorry for you.”

 

Her only reply was the slightest narrowing of her eyes.

 

“Look, let's go pay for this so we can get moving, okay?”

 

She arched her eyebrows meaningfully but refused to speak. Heaving a frustrated sigh, Bas pulled her along toward the cash register.

 

“Let go,” she grumbled as he stopped behind a few women standing in line at the only open cash register.

 

“Why?”

 

She made a face. “I need to use the bathroom.”

 

He sighed again. On the one hand, he wasn't entirely sure he could trust her. On the other, she'd very likely make a scene if he didn't let her go. “You'll come right back?” he asked slowly.

 

“I'll think about it,” she shot back.

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

“You really want to cause a scene about my going to the bathroom?”

 

He shook his head. “I'll trust you,” he finally allowed. “Don't make me regret it.”

 

Her answer was an insincere smile as he let go of her arm. He watched her walk away, disappearing in the aisles of merchandise until loud throat clearing behind him caught his attention. He was holding up the line.

 

`I think that was a mistake, Bas.'

 

Bas didn't reply as he handed over the dress and paid for it with cash. Following Sydnie's lingering trail to the bathrooms, he sat on the bench to wait and sighed as he checked his watched with a scowl.

 

Two young women hurried past, murmuring to each other as they pushed into the bathroom. Bas' scowl darkened, and he tapped his foot impatiently.

 

Leaning forward, dangling the bag between his knees as he waited until well after the two women he'd seen go into the bathroom came out again.

 

`Hey, Bas . . .?'

 

`What?'

 

`You don't think . . .?'

 

He sighed, gaze darkening menacingly. `Damn it . . .'

 

“You'll come right back?”

 

“I'll think about it.”

 

Before he could consider his actions, Bas shot to his feet. Two steps separated him from the women's bathroom. Stretching out his arm straight, he smacked the door open. It hit the white tile wall with a resounding thud that echoed in the otherwise empty room. Repeating the process at each of the five metal doors only verified what his nose already told him, and when he got to the last stall, he sighed, shaking his head, staring incredulously at the wide open frosted glass window. While it wasn't a big window, he figured it really didn't have to be. As scrawny as Sydnie was, she could have easily slipped out of it, and, failing that, she could have even taken an energy form, if she were capable of it.

 

`Damn it, damn it, damn it,' he growled, stomping out of the bathroom and garnering disgusted looks from a few women who were walking into the bathroom as he was leaving. “Sorry,” he muttered, cheeks pinking as he stormed past them. One said something in reply that Bas didn't catch. Knowing Sydnie, she had decided that it was as good a time as any to escape.

 

Running through the store as he berated himself for letting her go off by herself, Bas growled as the automatic doors slowed him down. Squeezing between the still-opening doors, he scanned the street when he reached the sidewalk, sniffing the air in the hope that she hadn't gotten that far.

 

`When I find her,' he fumed, catching the vaguest hint of her unmistakable scent on the shifting wind and setting off at a dead sprint, `I swear to God I'm going to handcuff her. I don't care how much she pouts, damn it . . .'

 

`What do you expect, Bas? It's not really like she's traveling with you by choice.'

 

`That doesn't matter! There's such a thing as courtesy . . . Sydnie, it seems, doesn't know what that is . . .'

 

`Oh, come on! Did you really think she was going to tell you what she was planning?'

 

`Not really,' he allowed, dashing around the side of the building. Sydnie was close; he could smell her. Hell, he could feel her aura, but she didn't seem to be moving.

 

Racing down the alley, he let his senses guide him. He didn't really see the slight alcove to the left. So intent on finding Sydnie that he didn't slow his gait at all, he was brought up short by a voice off to the side as he sprinted past.

 

“Going somewhere?”

 

“What the hell are you doing?” he barked, sliding to a halt as he rounded on the cat-youkai.

 

She uncrossed her legs and stood up slowly, smoothing the short black skirt over her thighs as she reshouldered her bag and sauntered over to him. “Just waiting for you,” she quipped lightly.

 

Digging into his inner breast pocket with one hand as he locked his other around her wrist, he jerked her slightly to bring her closer as he tugged the handcuffs loose. Her eyes flared wide as she blinked at the contraption. She tried to step back, but couldn't escape.

 

“You can't put those on me!” she gasped, shaking her head, turning imploring green eyes up to meet his angry gaze.

 

“You wanna bet?” he growled, flicking his wrist to open the cuff.

 

“I never take a bet when I don't like the odds.”

 

“So you're not completely stupid.”

 

She winced as he snapped the first cuff around her imprisoned wrist. “Bas?”

 

“Quiet.”

 

“But—”

 

“That means that you're supposed to shut up.”

 

“But—”

 

“You're not shutting up.”

 

“I wanted to tell you something—”

 

“Shutting up would mean that you're supposed to stop talking, wench.”

 

“Wench?”

 

“Yeah, wench. Give me your other hand.”

 

She snorted indelicately, making no bones about the idea that she wasn't about to hold out her hand to let him snap the other cuff onto her.

 

“Now.”

 

“As if! And since you're so busy being a jerk, then what do I care if your shoe is untied?”

 

“What?” he echoed, shaking his head as he glanced up from the unlocked handcuff.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Your shoe is untied, Bas the Hunter.”

 

It was an automatic reaction, he figured. Glancing down at his feet, it took a moment for his mind to grasp that his shoes were most certainly not untied since he'd worn boots instead. The moment was all that Sydnie needed. Whipping around so quickly that he barely had time to react, she jerked her hand free and vaulted onto the building, wasting no time at all in taking off over the rooftop.

 

`Damn it!' he growled as he leapt after her. He couldn't believe he'd fallen for such a stupid ploy as that. She was fast—almost too fast. Dropping off the far side of the building, Sydnie didn't look back as she broke for the cover of the park.

 

`I don't think so,' he thought grimly. Pushing off near the edge of the roof, he landed on the asphalt in the middle of the street and sprinted after the irrational cat.

 

Weaving in and out of the trees, Bas slowly closed in on her. Close enough to hear her harsh breathing, he closed the distance between them. She darted into the shadows created by the network of tree branches high overhead. She was wearing heels, he noted absently. How the hell much faster would she have been if she weren't? He grimaced. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer to that . . .

 

She veered off to the left again, running deeper into the cover of the trees. If she kept it up, she just might be able to elude him, but every second that passed only served to irritate him that much more.

 

`Come on, Bas! Don't let that scrawny little cat get the better of you!'

 

`Don't you think . . . I'm trying to catch her?' he grunted as he sped up a little more.

 

She broke through the trees and stopped abruptly. The rattle of a chain link fence echoed through Bas' ears. The fence had been unremarkable in the blur of motion. Sydnie must not have realized that there was something to thwart her escape. She crouched to spring over the fence as Bas lunged at her. Catching her around the waist, he grimaced as his weight carried them both against the fence before springing back and falling to the ground.

 

She landed on top of him, her elbows sinking into his stomach as the air rushed out of his lungs. It was pure instinct that kept his arms locked around her, and when she started to struggle, he stilled her with a harsh growl.

 

“Let go, you damned oaf!” she hollered then squealed when Bas' arms tightened around her.

 

He didn't answer right away, taking a moment to regain his breath as well as the rapidly dwindling control over his soaring temper.

 

“I mean it! Let go!”

 

“Knock it off, Sydnie,” he finally bit out, jaw clenched tight as she renewed her squirming attempt to escape.

 

“You're such a jerk!” she yelled, pushing against his chest, which only made him tighten his grip a little more. “Let go, let go, let go!”

 

“I'm a jerk? You're trying to run away, and you expect me to let you?”

 

“You're hurting me!”

 

Bas rolled his eyes and snorted. “Right. You think I don't know my own strength? I'm not hurting you, so knock it off, will you?”

 

Sydnie wrinkled her nose and scowled petulantly. “I don't like you.”

 

“The feeling's mutual.”

 

“You're an ass.”

 

“And you're a brat.”

 

“Stupid dog.”

 

“Catty bitch.”

 

“Let me go!”

 

“Over my dead body.”

 

“That could be arranged.”

 

He narrowed his gaze. “Just bring it.”

 

She tried to lean away again. “I hate you.”

 

Bas sighed but held her firmly. “Give up, Sydnie. You're not getting away.”

 

She didn't reply, but the mulish set to her mouth told him that she was far from finished in her plight to escape.

 

“Are you going to tell me just what crawled up your ass to make you decide to run away?”

 

She wiggled enough to pull her hand out from between their bodies and took her time regarding her claws with a bored affectation.

 

“I could lie here all day,” he goaded, giving her a little squeeze to remind her that if he did, she would be, too.

 

“I have money,” she grumbled as color stole into her cheeks. “I don't want anything from you—no clothes, no food . . . nothing.”

 

He shook his head, scowling at the stubborn girl who refused to meet his gaze. “Is that what this is all about? You're mad because I wanted to buy you a few dresses?”

 

Her eyes were bright with obvious irritation, indignation that he would dare overstep his bounds with her, he supposed. “I don't need you. I don't need anyone. I've taken care of myself for years, you know. Why don't you just go back to wherever you came from and leave me alone?”

 

“I'd love to,” he ground out. “I'm here to do a job. It's nothing personal, Sydnie; just a job.”

 

Sydnie paused for a moment, her gaze darkening with a strange sort of melancholy. It was masked as quickly as it had appeared, and she relaxed, as though all the anger she'd been harboring had suddenly evaporated. “I didn't think there was anything else to it,” she whispered.

 

`Does she have to look so sad?' he thought with an inward grimace. Sensing that she was done trying to escape, at least for now, Bas let his arms go slack though it was another moment before Sydnie realized it and sat up.

 

He sat up too, staring at the handcuff that dangled from her limp wrist, and sighed. “If you swear that you won't try to escape, I'll take that off you.”

 

“Not try to escape? For how long?”

 

Bas shook his head. “Until after you talk to the tai-youkai.”

 

She shot him a quizzical glance that melted into a rather sad smile as she looked away, raising her gaze to the sky. “I can't promise that.”

 

“It's all or nothing, Sydnie. I can't let you run off whenever you feel like it.”

 

She thought that over and sighed. “How about if I just promise not to try to escape for the rest of the day?”

 

Bas nearly smiled as he slowly got to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. “I'll think about it.”

 

Sydnie rolled her eyes but let him take her hand.

 

 

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A/N:

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Reviewers

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Serendith ------ NekoKamiFL ------ inuyashaloverr ------ LadyOrion ------ Starr Stealer ------ Rawben ------ angelfire777 ------ WhisperingWolf ------ badgerwolf ------ OROsan0677 ------ oblivion-bringr ------ Pyth ------ Darkflameangel

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Final Thought fromBas:

…Wench!

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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~