InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Milk and Honey ( Chapter 33 )

~~Chapter 33~~

~Milk and Honey~

 

Sydnie laughed softly, the white fur lining the hood that framed her face making the green of her eyes stand out in stark contrast as she stared up at the falling snow. He'd managed to talk her into letting him buy her the fawn colored suede, knee length `tulip' style coat when they'd gone shopping to replace Bas' clothing. That she'd left the hood on after he'd playfully pulled it over her head and adjusted it surprised him. He'd figured that she would take it off since she'd maintained that it distorted her hearing, but she hadn't, opting instead to slip her hand into his and let him lead her out into the falling snow.

 

“It's beautiful!” she exclaimed quietly, holding her arms out and turning around in a circle. The widened skirt of the coat flared around her, and Bas smiled. Her small feet barely seemed to touch the ground as she twirled, the fur lined cuffs of the matching booties whispering on the fresh snow. Catching her around the waist, he pulled her into his arms and chuckled. “I never imagined . . .!” she told him, barely able to keep her eyes on him. “It's so . . . so . . . amazing!”

 

“I think so, too,” he replied, staring at her instead of at the falling snow.

 

She glanced at him and bit her lip, cheeks flushed from the brisk winter cold. “It snows like this where you're from?”

 

He shrugged, shuffling his feet as he stared around at the falling snow. “Well . . . I suppose . . . it looks different in Maine.”

 

She laughed. “I'm glad you brought me here, puppy.”

 

He grimaced but smiled. “Am I ever going to graduate from `puppy'?”

 

She shook her head, leaning up on her toes to kiss his chin. “No, you'll always be my puppy.”

 

“And you'll always be my kitty.”

 

She giggled. “I told you: it doesn't work that way. I own you, remember?”

 

He sighed. “That's fine. I don't think . . . I don't think I'd want to own you.”

 

“Why not?”

 

He shrugged again and, resting his chin on her hair. “After all this . . . I want you to stay with me because it's where you want to be, Sydnie.”

 

She sighed, slipping her arms under his jacket and around his waist. “I like being with you.”

 

“Good.”

 

She fell silent for a moment, content to lean against him, he supposed. His hair whipped around in the brisk winter air, tossed in his face, wrapped around Sydnie like a blanket. “You want to go see the cows now?” he asked finally, breaking the quiet with his softly uttered question.

 

“Okay,” she agreed, letting her arms drop. She slipped her hand into his and let him lead her across the field and toward the driveway. Stopping at the next to the huge barns where the sounds of lowing cows could be discerned, Bas rang the doorbell and stepped back. Sydnie pulled away from him, wandering to the edge of the wraparound porch to gaze at the snow again.

 

An older man with a weathered brown face and deep creases that bespoke more character than hardship opened the door and smiled warmly. “Hello . . . I'm Bas, and this is Sydnie . . .”

 

“Oh, that's right. Betty said you were wanting to see the cows, right?” he asked. “John Martin. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Thanks.” Bas nodded, glancing at Sydnie and grinning. “If it's not any trouble.”

 

He grabbed a thick, wool-lined suede coat from just inside the door and stepped outside as he pulled it on. “Sure thing. The girls are just having their afternoon milking.”

 

Bas took Sydnie's hand and followed the man off the porch and toward the barns.

 

“Don't often get visitors who want to tour the place,” the man said as he opened the door and stepped back for Bas and Sydnie to pass.

 

“Sydnie likes cows,” Bas replied as Sydnie pushed the hood off her head and pulled her hair free. John chuckled, stopping beside Bas to watch as Sydnie pulled her hand away and wandered down the long aisle between stalls where cows were lined up, eating out of the troughs while machinery hooked to their udders carried the milk down a long series of tubes that disappeared through a hole in the far wall.

 

“Can I touch them?” Sydnie asked quietly, turning around to face the farmer.

 

“Sure . . . they're gentle enough.”

 

She giggled and gingerly reached through the bars of the stall.

 

“Pretty girl,” John commented, faded blue eyes bright as he watched the cat-youkai.

 

“She is,” Bas agreed. “I think it's the first time she's ever seen a real cow before.”

 

“Not from around here, I take it.”

 

“Uh, no . . . she's from Los Angeles.”

 

“Pretty far from home.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sydnie hurried back, a bright smile on her face as she slipped her hands around Bas' arm but looked at the farmer. “Do you ever milk them by hand?”

 

John grinned. “Not often, no . . . the machinery is faster. Anyway, I've got a few things I need to get done. Feel free to look around if you want.”

 

Bas nodded, shaking John's hand as Sydnie giggled and wandered back toward the cows again. John strode down the length of the aisle and disappeared through the door at the far end of the barn. Bas shuffled after Sydnie, leaning his forearms on the stall wall as Sydnie slowly stroked a cow's head, carefully scratching behind the ears. The cow lowed appreciatively, and she giggled. “They're so big,” she murmured.

 

Bas smiled. “Kind of clumsy-looking,” he allowed.

 

“You take that back, Bas the Hunter! They're beautiful creatures.”

 

He wrinkled his nose as his smile widened. “If you say so, kitty.”

 

She sighed softly, the happy little smile slowly fading. Blinking, she sighed almost sadly, and Bas scowled at the sense of melancholy that surfaced in her gaze. `Why?' he asked himself. `Sometimes she looks so lost, so alone . . . but . . . why?'

 

Her words were soft and somehow that much more poignant for him, partially because of the desperation in her tone, and partially because, as much as he would love to give her whatever she wanted, he simply couldn't give her this . . . “Can I stay here, Sebastian? You could leave me . . . I think . . . I could be happy here . . .”

 

“Baby,” he whispered, straightening up to pull her back against his chest. “I'm sorry . . . I can't leave you here.”

 

She sighed, letting her head fall back against his chest as she closed her eyes, as a trembling little smile turned up the corners of her lips and managed to break his heart just a little more. “I know. I just thought . . . it doesn't really matter, what I thought.”

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

“You could stay here, too,” she insisted, struck by sudden inspiration. “You could . . . be a cattle doggie.”

 

He rolled his eyes but grinned. “You're kidding, right?”

 

She shook her head. “Nope.”

 

“Yeah, I didn't think so.”

 

“Tell me what else you have planned for the day?” she coaxed.

 

He shrugged. “Nothing, really . . . whatever you want. We could go for a walk or something . . .”

 

She sighed, stepping away long enough to pet the cow again. “Okay,” she agreed, grabbing his hand and tugging. “I like walking.”

 

Bas chuckled softly and let her pull him out of the barn into the clean, white world of falling snow.

 

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“It's so cold!” Sydnie exclaimed, rubbing her arms through the sleeves of her coat. Fitting so tightly that it looked like a second skin, the coat seemed to be tailored just for her though Bas knew that it wasn't. Snug to the waist where it flared gently into a full skirt, the supple suede leather flowed with her movements. She laughed softly, linking her arm around his as they wandered through the forest. Flakes of falling snow stuck in her hair, but if she were suffering from the chill in the air, she didn't remark on it. The afternoon skies were overcast and dull. Being with Sydnie made it all seem brighter . . .

 

“Tell me, Sydnie,” he began, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he broke a path in the snow for her. “Did you really want to stay with the cows?”

 

Sydnie sighed, pulling away from him and veering off the path to dust the snow away from a fallen log so that she could sit down. “Yes . . . no . . . I don't know.”

 

Bas followed, sitting beside her and shaking his head at her confusing answer. “That was a weird answer.”

 

“You have to take me to him, right? To the tai-youkai . . .”

 

Bas grimaced at the abrupt reminder. Sometimes it was easy to forget, just why he was ultimately traveling with her . . . He sighed. “There's that, too,” he agreed. “You know I'd miss you, right?”

 

“I don't know,” she disagreed. “Seems like things would be simpler for you if you didn't have to worry about me.”

 

“I like worrying about you,” he pointed out. “You're my kitty.”

 

Leaning against his shoulder, Sydnie sighed and smiled wanly. “For now, puppy?”

 

`Forever . . .'

 

He smiled, too. “For as long as you'll have me.”

 

She sat up, scrunching up her shoulders as she stared at her clasped hands, a hint of pinkness filtering into her cheeks that didn't have a thing to do with the cold winter air. “You . . . you brought me milk,” she said. “How did you know?”

 

Bas blinked and frowned slightly. “You're a cat,” he explained. “Cats like milk. Your parents probably brought you milk, too.”

 

Her bashful expression melted into a perplexed scowl. “They didn't want me,” she murmured so quietly that Bas had to lean toward her to hear her words.

 

“What? No . . .”

 

Sydnie shrugged. “That's what . . . she said . . .” She ducked her head a little further.

 

“`She'? `She', who?”

 

“It doesn't matter . . . I just . . . I remember asking, and she said that they left.”

 

Bas didn't know what to say. The upset on Sydnie's face dug at him, tore at him, and he sighed, slipping his arm around her and drawing her closer to his side. “I'm sorry, baby . . . I can't believe that your parents didn't want you . . . Do you remember anything about them?”

 

Sydnie thought it over, slipping her arm under his duster and around his waist. “No . . . nothing. I just remember . . . I missed her . . . my mother . . .”

 

He couldn't wrap his brain around it. He couldn't reconcile himself to believe that Sydnie's parents wouldn't want her; that anyone would be able to resist adoring her. Unable to do more than just hold her, he winced as the pain in her youki spiked. Pulling her into his lap, he did the only thing he could do. Holding her, rocking her gently, wishing that there were more he could do, something he could say to alleviate the hurt that seemed so raw to her. Kissing her forehead, he closed his eyes, feeling completely helpless despite the way she cuddled closer, as though he really were soothing her. The secrets she guarded so jealously . . . just how much were they costing her inside? And yet he couldn't deny the surge of satisfaction, no matter how bittersweet, that she trusted him enough to tell him anything at all . . .

 

“I'm okay now,” she finally said though she didn't even try to move away from him.

 

Bas tucked his arms more securely around her. “You can tell me things, Sydnie . . . you know that, right?”

 

“I know,” she agreed.

 

“Good.” He breathed in the clean scent of her hair and sighed. “Things like . . . why you like closets so much?”

 

“I don't, particularly.”

 

He snorted but didn't argue with her. “Or why you killed Cal Richardson.”

 

“I told you—”

 

“I know what you've said, Sydnie. I also know there's more to it than that.”

 

She grimaced and bit her lip but shook her head, burying her face against his chest. “I don't want to talk about it.”

 

“Baby—”

 

“Maybe someday,” she whispered. “Just . . . not now; not here.”

 

He made a face but nodded, letting her have the perceived victory, at least for the moment. “You cold?”

 

She shook her head, closing her eyes and burrowing a little closer. “Uh-uh.”

 

“Hungry?”

 

“Uh-uh.”

 

“Want some milk?”

 

She hesitated before answering, and he smiled. “That might be okay.”

 

Slipping his arm under her knees to pick her up, Bas started to stand. “Ready to go back, then?”

 

She sighed. “Wait . . .”

 

He sat back down. “All right . . . what?”

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning back and clasping his cheeks in her hands.

 

He frowned thoughtfully, unsure just what she would be thanking him for. “Why?”

 

She pushed herself up on her toes, pulling him down to kiss him gently. “For bringing me here . . . for showing me the cows . . . for . . . everything.”

 

“I don't mind,” he mumbled, trying not to blush at the warm praise.

 

“You're a good man, Sebastian . . . Zelig.”

 

“Am I?”

 

She nodded.

 

He sucked in a sharp breath as he stared into her eyes. He could see it: all the things she just couldn't say. The understanding, the knowledge that she might try to deny . . . she knew as well as he did that they were mates; that they belonged together. He made a lifetime of promises in those moments; an uncompromising vow spoken without words, and he knew that she understood it, too. He offered her forever. All she had to do was take it.

 

He could see the traces of fear lingering in her gaze, the faint ghosts that still haunted her . . . things that he wasn't sure he'd ever understand. A dim light flickered, sputtered, but grew the tiniest bit as he gazed at her. Despite her insecurities and the unspoken secrets, somewhere deep down, she hoped. That faint hope lent him strength, the determination to try to convince her.

 

`You'll believe it, Sydnie . . . you have to. You have to believe in us . . .'

 

He stared in silence as tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked, a vain effort to stave them back as a solitary tear spilled over, slipping down her cheek in an icy streak. He caught the tear on the tip of his index finger and licked the moisture away. She frowned slightly, shaking her head as she watched him. “Why'd you do that?” she finally asked.

 

Bas tried to smile then sighed. “My mom says . . . she said her mother used to do this. If you catch the first tear and make a wish, the wish will come true.”

 

“What did you wish for?” she asked almost breathlessly.

 

Bas' smile grew despite the soberness in his gaze. “That's easy, kitty . . . I wished . . . I wished that you'd be happy.”

 

“Sebastian . . .”

 

The smile finally filtered into his eyes, and he stood up, carrying Sydnie through the forest along the path that hadn't been broken yet. “It's all right to dream, Sydnie. Do you believe me?”

 

She linked her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. “I . . . I want to.”

 

“Then do it.”

 

She sighed and drew a deep breath. “. . . Okay . . .”

 

 

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A/N:

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Final Thought fromSydnie:

Okay to dream, huh …

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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~