InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Curiosity Killed the Cat ( Chapter 6 )

~~Chapter 6~~

~Curiosity Killed the Cat~

 

“What are you reading?”

 

Bas sighed but didn't even glance up from the manila folder open in his hands. “Something.”

 

“Obvious, but still not a real answer.”

 

“Something that's none of your business.”

 

“Grumpy, aren't we, Mr. Puppy-Pants?”

 

That earned Sydnie a scathing glance before Bas returned his attention to the file once more.

 

“What's it about?”

 

“Research.”

 

She blinked and sat up straighter, leaning forward from her perch on the end of the bed as she sat up and tried to see over the top of the folder. “Intriguing . . . so what are we researching?”

 

“We?” he echoed pointedly.

 

“Yes, `we'.”

 

“I could have sworn I just told you, it's none of your business.”

 

“Incidentals, Bas.” A sudden thought dawned on her, and she sat back, mouth rounding in a knowing `oh'. “I see . . . it's me, isn't it? Let me see!”

 

“I don't think—”

 

“Hand it over,” she demanded, wiggling her fingers as she held out her hand.

 

“It's not about—”

 

“So you say; so you say . . . what else would you be researching, if not me?”

 

“Would you stop being a pain in my—?”

 

She hopped up and snatched the file out of his hands before retreating to the sanctuary of the bed as he growled in frustration and slowly stood up to retrieve the pilfered document.

 

“`Name: Kit',” she read before glancing at him. “Or Sydnie . . . I prefer Kit.”

 

“Give it back, Sydnie—what is your last name?”

 

She made a face and held out her hand to stave him back as she kept reading. “Mine? Taylor . . . `Age: unknown; rumored to be very young'.” She shifted her eyes toward the ceiling with a thoughtful scowl as she tapped the edge of the file against her chin. “Whoever does your research really sucks.”

 

“So how old are you?” he countered, crossing his arms over his chest, figuring that maybe he should see if he could get any of the answers out of her since she was obviously in the mood to chat.

 

“How old are you, puppy?”

 

Bas snorted. “If I tell you how old I am, will you tell me how old you are?”

 

“I don't know . . . will you show me yours after that?”

 

“What?”

 

The catty grin resurfaced. “I'll think about it.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “I'm twenty-five.”

 

She seemed genuinely surprised at that. He wasn't sure he wanted to know why. “Really? I'd have said younger.”

 

He wrinkled his nose. He figured it would have to be something like that. “Okay, now how old are you?”

 

“Twenty.”

 

He couldn't quite keep his eyebrows from shooting up at her nonchalant statement. “You're twenty?”

 

She peered up at him with a scowl, and slowly nodded. “Yes, twenty . . . at least, I think I'm twenty . . .” She shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, I'm sure I'm twenty—pretty much.”

 

Bas blinked and shook his head. “You think you're twenty?”

 

A barely discernible blush crept up her cheeks as Sydnie bit her lip and shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “Yeah, I think so . . . why?”

 

“You mean you don't know?”

 

“Does it matter? Age is irrelevant, don't you think?”

 

He shook his head again, sinking down onto the edge of the bed and gently catching her arm, forcing her to meet his gaze. “How could you not know how old you are?”

 

A momentary flicker of something . . . sadness? Regret? Fear? It was gone too quickly to discern, and Sydnie shrugged again. “No one really told me . . . at least that I can remember.”

 

“Your mother or father—”

 

“Dead.”

 

“Sisters or brothers?”

 

“None.”

 

“. . . Aunts or uncles . . .?”

 

“Get it through your thick head, pretty boy: when I said there was no one, I mean just that, all right?”

 

“Everyone has someone.”

 

“No, they really don't.”

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

She grimaced and dropped the file, swinging her legs off the bed as she abruptly pulled away and shot to her feet. “Don't do that to me, Bas the Hunter. Don't you dare look at me with pity in your eyes.”

 

Bas let his hand drop to the coverlet and sighed, turning his face away as color stole into his cheeks. “It's not . . . I don't pity you.”

 

Sydnie uttered a sound suspiciously like a frustrated growl, back stiff and proud as she deliberately strode across the room and sloshed ice water into a glass on the table. “I take care of myself, puppy. I don't need a mommy or a daddy to tuck me in at night. I don't need . . . I don't need anyone.”

 

“Is that why you killed him? Cal Richardson? Because you didn't need him?”

 

She whipped around, her eyes sparkling dangerously as her pupils narrowed to tiny slits. `Cat eyes,' he thought absently, refusing to look away as her skin blossomed in indignant color; as her youki crackled with the sudden surge of anger.

 

“You don't know a damn thing about Cal Richardson, do you? You don't know what a sick bastard he was . . . you have no idea what he was capable of.”

 

Bas stood slowly, took a step toward her as she stepped back in retreat. “Did he hurt you? Is that what you're telling me?”

 

She swallowed hard, forcing her gaze away, her hands shaking so badly that water sloshed over the brim of the glass, spilled over her fingers and dripped onto the floor. “No one hurts me.”

 

“Why'd you kill him, Sydnie?” he asked softly, reaching out a tentative hand to take the glass before she dropped it.

 

She bit out a bitter chuckle—a sound devoid of humor, as dry as the autumn leaves skittering across the barren, brown earth. “It doesn't matter. I won't make excuses.”

 

“It might matter,” he argued. “It might matter a lot.”

 

She sighed and shook her head slowly, sadly, rubbing her bare arms as though she were cold. “I . . . I'm going to take a bath,” she said quietly.

 

He watched her go without a word, scowling as he tried to make sense of her riddles; of the things that she refused to acknowledge. She was paradox in motion, wasn't she? A walking mystery that eluded his reason.

 

`Just who is she?'

 

`I don't know, Bas, but I think . . .'

 

`Think what?'

 

`I think she's lonely. I think . . . I think she's tired of running.'

 

`That's ridiculous. Tired of running? She didn't kill Richardson that long ago—if she even really did do it.'

 

His youkai was silent as he retrieved the file off the bed and dropped it onto the table. `You don't think she did it? She told you she did.'

 

`Sure, she said she did,' he agreed, `but she's not a killer. She's not a murderer.'

 

`Killing and murdering are two entirely different things, yes. Don't doubt for a second that she killed Cal Richardson even if you don't want to believe that she could be a murderer.'

 

`I'm not stupid,' he grumbled. `I'm not a pup.'

 

`You've underestimated her a few times now. You'd better stop that or she'll end up making you regret it.'

 

`Make me regret it, huh . . .'

 

Wincing when his cell phone rang, Bas snatched the black leather duster to rifle through the pockets for the digital device. “Hello?”

 

“Bas? How's it going?”

 

Letting out a deep breath at the sound of his father's voice Bas dropped into a chair and rubbed his temple with a weary hand. “It's fine.”

 

“You sound . . . odd.”

 

“Yeah, well . . .”

 

“Have you had any luck in getting any answers out of her?”

 

Bas rubbed a little harder. “Nothing that makes any sense.”

 

“I see.”

 

Shaking his head since he saw no way around telling Cain exactly what Sydnie had told him, he heaved a sigh and leaned to the side to make sure that the bathroom door was still closed. “She talks in riddles. She says she killed Richardson, but . . .”

 

“But you don't think so?”

 

“No, I believe her. I just think that there's more to it that she isn't saying.”

 

Cain was quiet for a moment. “Do you think she'll tell you?”

 

“I don't know. She doesn't trust anyone, especially me.”

 

“Can you get her to trust you?”

 

Bas sighed. “I can try.”

 

“Sebastian . . . there's more to it than just trying. This girl . . . If she did kill Cal Richardson—if she did have a solid reason . . . I have to know.”

 

“Understood,” he replied. “Look, I have to go. She's taking a bath, but I'm not sure how long she'll be in there.”

 

“All right,” Cain agreed. “Keep in touch, will you?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Cain sighed. “And your mother sends her love.”

 

Bas stared at the cell phone long after his father had hung up.

 

`He's catching hell over this entire situation.'

 

`Of course he is. Your father's never made any bones about hating Cal Richardson. If he's not careful, people will start thinking that he doesn't care that the man was murdered.'

 

`Yeah, well, you have bigger fish to fry, as it were.'

 

`Like what?'

 

`Like the fact that Sydnie isn't exactly the most forthcoming person with her secrets . . . Just how do you plan on getting answers out of her, anyway?'

 

A dull pounding erupted behind Bas' eyes, and he furiously rubbed them, trying to dispel the throb before it escalated into a full-blown headache.

 

Sydnie's secrets . . .

 

He heaved a sigh, dropping his cell phone onto the table and leaning forward to cradle his temples in his fingertips. The image of her very real upset when he'd broached the subject of her family flashed through his mind, and he grimaced.

 

`That's a good question . . . damn it . . .'

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

`If you were smart, you'd get the hell away from him before he gets to you more than you've already let him.'

 

Sydnie slouched lower in the cramped little tub and stretched out her toes to catch the handle of the hot water tap to shut it off. `I haven't let him get to me . . . he's just a pretty boy—a puppy.'

 

`A puppy? Come on, Sydnie. He's older than you are.'

 

`Biologically, maybe, and I thought you agreed with me that age is irrelevant.'

 

`Be reasonable, will you? Whether you want to believe it or not, that man's dangerous.'

 

`He wouldn't hurt a fly. He's no hunter.'

 

`So you'd like to think. He must have the credentials. You might not like the tai-youkai, but even you know that there's no way that he'd send out a hunter who couldn't cut it.'

 

`Get a grip. It's not like I'm planning on running off with Bas the Hunter. I'm just trying to get to New York City—you should remember. It was your idea, wasn't it?'

 

`That was before,' her youkai maintained stubbornly as Sydnie worked up a lather on a snowy white wash cloth.

 

`Before what?'

 

`You can't tell me you don't sense it. If you try, you'll be lying.'

 

`Dunno what you're talking about,' she grumbled, taking her time as she washed her arms, her shoulders.

 

`He's familiar.'

 

`Now who's being stupid? I think I'd have remembered if I'd met him before, don't you?'

 

`It has nothing to do with meeting him before, Syd. This is different—entirely different.'

 

`He's harmless. I'm just with him to get to New York City; that's all. Now shut up, will you? You're giving me a headache.'

 

`All right, fine. Answer one question, and I swear I'll shut up for the rest of the night.'

 

`. . . Okay.'

 

`If I'm so stupid . . . if I'm wrong . . . why are you telling him things?'

 

`I haven't told him anything important.'

 

`You've told him more than you've told anyone. In a couple days, he knows you better than anyone else has since K—”

 

`You've had your question,' she cut in, flopping back in the tub and submersing herself in the water to rinse the shampoo from her hair.

 

Her youkai sighed but grew quiet, and Sydnie pushed herself back up, setting against the back of the tub and slowly letting her eyes drift closed. It was nice, she had to admit. Feeling safe enough to take a long, relaxing bath was nice. How long had it been since she'd felt that way? She grimaced and squeezed her eyes closed for a moment before letting a soft sigh escape in the steam-fogged air. `Maybe I'm better off, not answering that.'

 

`Sydnie?'

 

Popping one eye open, as if she were looking for the owner of the voice only she could hear, Sydnie wrinkled her nose and braced herself for whatever her youkai was going to say. `What?'

 

`He's got really pretty eyes, doesn't he?'

 

Sinking a little lower in the tub, letting the vanilla scented bubbles cover her chin, Sydnie stared at the tile wall without actually seeing it. No, what she saw were a pair of brilliant golden eyes touched with a softness, tinged with unmistakable curiosity . . . a little shiver ran down her spine, and she rubbed her arms as gooseflesh broke out over her skin.

 

Shaken out of her reverie by the faint sound of someone knocking on the hotel room door, Sydnie frowned and sat up, reaching for a towel to dry her face and arms as she slowly stood up.

 

She wrapped one of the towels around her body, tucking in the end to secure it, but grimaced as she turned to eye the clothes she'd just taken off. Both of her outfits were dirty. She normally just settled for baths—clothes and all in the pond at the park near the derelict building she called home—with whatever soap she'd managed to procure at the time. She washed herself and her clothing all at once, and while it wasn't really preferable, it was the only real alternative she had. Now the very thought of putting her clothes back on wasn't one she liked. While she could wash them out in the tub and wear them till they dried, she'd never been fond of trying to sleep in wet clothing, and she had a feeling that Bas the Hunter would complain about that, anyway.

 

Sydnie sighed, digging her change of clothes out of her purse before kneeling beside the tub and dumping her clothes into the still-warm water.

 

It didn't take long to scrub the two skirts, two shirts, and two pairs of panties she owned. Standing on her tiptoes, she hung the garments over the shower curtain rod and readjusted the towel. It really couldn't be helped, could it? Surely he'd understand . . .

 

`Oh, sure he will, Syd. Never mind that you had to go and act like a baby when he tried to get you to pick out more clothes earlier.'

 

`It was the principle,' she maintained as she wiped off the cloudy mirror with a hand towel before leaning her head to the side to run her fingers through her hair since she didn't have a brush, either. `I don't want him to buy me things.'

 

`Don't be so proud, Sydnie. He wasn't trying to offend you.'

 

`I thought you said you weren't going to talk the rest of the night?'

 

`Yes, well . . . and another thing . . . do you really think that wearing just a towel is a good idea?'

 

`What's wrong with the towel? It covers everything, doesn't it?'

 

`Sure, but the implication—'

 

`I could go out there naked . . .'

 

`The towel's fine,' her youkai blurted.

 

Sydnie grinned as she opened the door.

 

Bas was standing at the window, holding the sheer curtain aside as he stared out at the night sky. The glow from the lamp on the nightstand cast him in a golden hue. Staring at his back, she smiled just a little, enjoying the moment of peace that would shatter the second either of them opened their mouths to speak. Not for the first time, the thought came to her, `If I'd met him in another lifetime, things might have been so much different . . .' Why did the thought make her feel so sad, so hopeless . . . so lonely?

 

“I didn't know what you wanted, so I just ordered us the same things,” he said quietly without turning to look at her.

 

She glanced at the table and stared, swallowing hard as she took in the tall, frothy glass of milk standing beside what had to be her plate since the other glass was filled with soda. For some reason, that he had remembered something as basic as her affinity for milk . . . it scared the hell out of her.

 

Deliberately ignoring the food, Sydnie sat on the foot of the bed, tucking her hands under her thighs as she scrunched up her shoulders and gathered her waning bravado. “I'm not hungry,” she lied, tugging her hands free to wrap her arms over her stomach to staunch the rumbling inspired by the enticing aroma of the food.

 

“Oh, hell, Sydnie, do you have to turn everything into a battle of wills?” he growled as he pushed himself away from the window and strode toward the table, hands jammed in his pockets as he stared at the floor. “I'm not your enemy, damn it.”

 

“I beg to differ,” she retorted stiffly.

 

Bas stopped and looked up, eyes bright, flashing, angry. They lit on her and flared wide as his mouth dropped open, as color shot into his cheeks. “I—you—wha—Where the hell are your clothes?” he bellowed, waving his hands in her direction.

 

She smiled sweetly, oddly calm in the face of Bas' tirade. “They're wet,” she stated simply.

 

“They're . . .? What the hell did you do? Throw them in the tub?”

 

She crossed her knees and wrapped her hands around them. “No, silly . . . I washed them.”

 

“Washed . . .?” Snapping his mouth closed tight, he looked like he was fighting for control of his soaring temper. He strode over to his bag, yanked the zipper open, and flung the first thing he laid hands on—a maroon colored tee-shirt—at her. “Wear that.”

 

She wrinkled her nose as she made a show of holding the shirt up and inspecting it carefully. “I'll pass, thanks.”

 

“Hmm, yeah, well, this isn't negotiable, Sydnie. Put it on. Now.”

 

“If it's all the same to you, I don't think we know each other well enough to start smelling like a couple. You'll understand, I'm sure.”

 

“What I understand is that you're obviously devil-spawn posing as a cat-youkai. Now get the fucking shirt on, Sydnie. I'm not joking.”

 

She tossed the shirt aside and slowly stood up, arching her back as she reached above her head to stretch. Bas' loud gasp echoed in her head, and she quickly turned away to hide her amusement. “Relax, puppy. My clothes will be dry in an hour or two. I'll get dressed when they are.”

 

He didn't respond. Daring a peek over her shoulder, she couldn't help but grin at the completely dumbstruck look on his face. If he realized he was gaping at her, she wasn't certain. Pulling her hair over her shoulder as she turned to face him again, she ran her fingers through the length of it. “What's the matter, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?”

 

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He didn't make a sound.

 

Giggling softly, she sauntered toward him. His eyes flared a little wider, but he didn't move away. So close that she could feel the raw heat radiating from his body, she slipped her hands between them, kneading the muscles hidden by the fabric of his shirt as she gazed up at him, issuing him a silent challenge. “You look a little shocked, Bas the Hunter. Is something wrong?”

 

He swallowed hard once, twice, blinking rapidly as he fought for a semblance of his composure. “S-Sydnie . . .”

 

“Yes?”

 

He closed his eyes against the husky quality in her reply. “Put the shirt on.”

 

“Scared of the little kitty?”

 

“Just . . . do it.”

 

Arching her eyebrows, she stepped back. “If you say so,” she countered, bringing her hand up to toy with the edge of the towel. “Are you sure?”

 

He finally realized what she was threatening. Closing the distance between them in one long stride, his hand shot out to stay hers, and he stifled a low growl. “Damn it . . .”

 

“What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?”

 

Violent color blossomed in his cheeks. He jerked her hand away from the towel, gaze burning her as she bravely—or was it stupidly—stubbornly stood her ground. “What do you want, Sydnie?”

 

“What makes you think I want something?”

 

He narrowed his eyes and snorted. “Last I checked you could barely tolerate me. That would mean that all of this is just an act, so why don't you forego the dramatics and just tell me what it is you're after?”

 

“I tolerate you, puppy,” she said, letting her eyes travel up and down his chest. “My clothes were dirty, so I washed them. That's all. Now aren't you ashamed? You really are a dog, aren't you? Did you think that I made up the story about my clothes just so I could parade around in front of you in a towel?”

 

He let go of her hand and stomped over to the table. “Whatever.”

 

She laughed. “Rest assured, Bas the Hunter . . . if I wanted to flash you, I wouldn't make up a lame story like that. I'd just do it.”

 

“Eat your food before it gets cold,” he grumbled.

 

Sydnie retreated to her perch on the end of the bed once more, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having beaten the hunter in a battle of wits. `The game's on, pretty boy . . .' she thought with a grin.

 

The grin widened when her youkai heaved a loud sigh.

 

 

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A/N:

This chapter is uploaded early for two very special women who really brightened my day today.

Phalon, thank you.

Inuyoukaimama, thank you, too.

Happy Thanksgiving, and God bless!

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Reviewers

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MMorg

Fairia13 ------ Rawben ------ OROsan0677 ------ NekoKamiFL ------ Starr Stealer ------ Corcione

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Final Thought fromSydnie:

Score one for Sydnie! Bas the Hunter has met his match!

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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~