InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Who's Your Daddy? ( Chapter 51 )

~~Chapter 51~~

~Who's Your Daddy?~

 

“Get the fucking sword up before I hack a piece outta you,” InuYasha snarled as Bas spun away to avoid the heavy blade that whistled through the winter air.

 

Gritting his teeth and wondering why fighting his grandfather never failed to make him feel like a novice with Triumvirate, Bas blocked Tetsusaiga moments before the old man made good on his threat. Grunting with the effort he expended in trying to push InuYasha back, Bas slipped on the snow but didn't lose his footing. “This was your way of greeting me?” he demanded, jerking Triumvirate away and spinning in a circle, building up some momentum that barely moved the hanyou.

 

“Maybe you'll think before you make your mother worry,” InuYasha growled as he pushed Bas' blade to the side and hopped back a few feet. “Fucking stupid . . . You coulda kept Mamoruzen with you, but you were too damn proud to do that, weren't you?”

 

“Mamoruzen—”

 

InuYasha snorted, cutting Bas off as he tightened his grip on Tetsusaiga. “—Was trained with you, baka! Just as hella stupid as your old man.”

 

Bas grunted as he blocked InuYasha's sword with Triumvirate again. Bracing the blade with a hand against the flat of it, he tried to hold his ground—no small feat when facing the one that legend had named `the angry hanyou'. Disengaging the swords long enough to cleave another wide arc at his grandson, InuYasha grimaced when Bas blocked him again. “I was just supposed to pick her up and bring her back,” Bas explained.

 

“Keh!” he growled, hopping back once more though this time he dropped Tetsusaiga into the scabbard. Breathing hard, Bas followed suite, satisfied that his grandfather was finished trying to beat him into submission. “You didn't do too badly,” InuYasha allowed, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Bas the once-over. “At least you didn't die.”

 

Bas bowed slightly, acknowledging InuYasha's sparse praise for what it was. “Thank you for watching out for us.”

 

InuYasha snorted again. “Figured it out?”

 

“Well, considering Sydnie said that she scared the other youkai off with Triumvirate then held it like a baseball bat . . . I sort of thought that maybe there was more to it than that.”

 

InuYasha nodded before leaping up into the tree branches overhead. Settling himself in the fork created by two adjacent limbs, he leaned over, peering down at Bas before jerking his head in silent invitation.

 

Bas sprang up after him with a little smile, sitting on a sturdy branch and leaning back against the tree trunk. “You took care of the youkai who hired the hit on Sydnie?”

 

Folding his arms together under the cover of the flowing fire rat haori's sleeves, InuYasha nodded, ears twitching as he shifted his gaze over the expanse of the yard. “Damn cowards, the lot of `em. One of them broke down, sobbing like a wench. Ryomaru took care of him. Anyway, we did what we needed to do. They won't be taking out another contract on your mate.”

 

Bas nodded, pondering his grandfather's claim. After seeing the absolute disdain on InuYasha's face as he glared at the body of Jared Brantley, Bas had to wonder just how his grandfather was able to carry out such a task. “Thank you.”

 

“Keh.”

 

Staring out over the landscape as the wind off the ocean picked up, Bas smiled a little sadly. Something about this time of day—the moments when the daylight thinned and wavered only to be kissed with the slightest hints of tawny golds, of subtle reds and the pastel shades of the descending night—had always touched him, lent him a quiet sort of respect. So many times he'd stood beside his father, both lost in thoughts of their own while they observed the magical reprieve.

 

“Less than a week, huh?” InuYasha muttered, breaking the companionable silence as he slowly shook his head.

 

“Yup,” Bas agreed. The wedding was less than a week away, and to be honest, Bas wished it was over. While he enjoyed seeing his family, he had to admit that he didn't like sharing Sydnie quite so much. All too often of late, they'd been hard pressed to steal a moment alone during the day. It seemed like there was always something that needed Sydnie's immediate attention, and whoever came to get her—normally either Gin or Jillian though Isabelle had entered the rotation easily enough—would promise to return her in `just a few minutes'. Funny how his idea of `just a few minutes' and theirs always seemed to differ . . .

 

“Too much of a fuss, if you ask me,” InuYasha said with a marked snort.

 

Bas sighed. “I think so, too.”

 

“Yeah, Kagome bought a fucking tuxedo for me to wear. Like I'd be caught dead in something like that.”

 

Bas tried not to smile at the idea of his grandfather wearing a tuxedo for the occasion. “Yeah, well, I figured you'd just wear that,” he remarked, nodding at the fire-rat clothing. “I'm not even wearing a tuxedo.”

 

That was true enough. Sydnie, it seemed, wanted to see Bas in his traditional dress, much to his irritation, and she'd basically cajoled him into agreeing to it, too.

 

“Your old man says that you've taken an interest in those old cases of his,” InuYasha went on, changing the subject in the same abrupt fashion that he did just about everything else.

 

Bas sighed, rubbing his forehead in a tired sort of way. “Yeah . . . There's so many of them, and . . .”

 

“And you think that there's another Sydnie lost in those files?”

 

Bas blinked and nodded, surprised at how easily his grandfather was able to completely comprehend his motives. “Something like that.”

 

InuYasha nodded slowly. “She's all right,” he finally stated. “She ain't alone anymore.”

 

Something in his grandfather's tone made Bas frown as he lifted his chin and stared at the hanyou. He understood Sydnie, didn't he? On some level, InuYasha knew the loneliness that she had suffered for so long because InuYasha, too, had felt that way, hadn't he? Sometimes it was easy to forget the stories that he'd been told though never from his grandfather's lips. Gin had told him stories—the same stories that Kagome had told her when she was a child . . . the search for the Shikon no Kakera . . . InuYasha had been alone, hadn't he? Ostracized because he was a hanyou, he hadn't fit in with humans or youkai, and after his mother died . . . Yes, if anyone could understand Sydnie, Bas knew that InuYasha would be the one.

 

“No, she isn't,” he agreed quietly.

 

InuYasha nodded. “And you think that you can help someone else like her? That it?”

 

“Is that so wrong?”

 

InuYasha grunted. “Wrong? Hell, no . . . There's more than one Jared Brantley in the world. You ready to deal with a bastard like him again?”

 

Bas had wondered that, himself. He had yet to formally ask that Cain turn the files over to him, but he'd hinted about it in the time since he and Sydnie had returned. Cain hadn't looked overjoyed at the idea of letting Bas have the cases, but he didn't seem completely opposed to the idea, either. Bas was still trying to figure out the best way to present his idea, both to his father as well as to the remaining generals. As it was, Cain had alluded to the idea of turning over the Canadian region to Bas, and to be honest, Bas wasn't sure if Cain would think that he was ultimately biting off more than he could chew . . .

 

But the sense of peace that had surrounded Sydnie since the altercation with Jared Brantley was impossible to ignore. Maybe he couldn't really help anyone in the end, but he also couldn't quite believe that Sydnie was the only person who had somehow fallen through the cracks in a system that was made to catch children like her before they were left alone. If he could help to bring a sense of closure to some of those cases, then it would be worth it, wouldn't it?

 

“Dad said that being tai-youkai isn't about being popular or taking the easy way out.”

 

“Keh! If it were about that, then your fucking uncle wouldn't be the Japanese tai-youkai,” InuYasha snorted.

 

Bas smirked. “Even then, it's our—my—responsibility to take care of those who cannot take care of themselves.”

 

“Sounds like you've got your mind made up.”

 

“I do . . . it's just . . . it won't be easy.”

 

“And it'd be worth it if it was?”

 

Bas couldn't help the smile that spread over his features. “No, it wouldn't be.”

 

“Then stop your bitching and just do it.”

 

Laughing at InuYasha's no-nonsense approach to life, Bas nodded and settled back to scan the horizon once more. “You're right,” he agreed. “Absolutely.”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“Oi, kitten . . .”

 

Glancing up from the book she'd been reading, Sydnie smiled as Gunnar stepped into the room. “Puppy!”

 

Gunnar chuckled. “Is Bas around?”

 

Sydnie made a face and heaved a dramatic sigh as she tossed the book onto the coffee table and stretched out on the couch, leaning her head on the armrest. “No . . . Is he always so busy?”

 

Lifting her feet so that he could sit beside her, Gunnar idly rubbed her instep and grinned. “Nope . . . I think his mother told him to stay out of the way while you're planning this whirlwind wedding of yours. He was outside with Uncle Yasha, but that was awhile ago, so I figured maybe he snuck back up here to hog you for awhile.”

 

“I've lost count of the people in this freakishly huge place,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head as she wiggled her toes happily. “And why do they all look the same? They're all silver haired and stuff . . . I mistook one of Sebastian's uncles for Evan yesterday . . .”

 

Gunnar barked out a terse laugh. “Did you? Which one?”

 

“I couldn't tell . . .”

 

“Yeah, but Evan doesn't have the dog ears.”

 

“True enough. Too bad. They're awfully cute. Anyway, I didn't have time to see that much. He was coming around the corner out of that room—the one with the castles painted on the walls—”

 

“Must have been Uncle Kichiro.”

 

“That sounds about right. I ran right into him. He just laughed at me . . .”

 

“That sounds about right, too,” Gunnar agreed. “Uncle Kich doesn't take much of anything too seriously.”

 

Sydnie sighed and fell silent, staring at Gunnar for several long minutes. She had to admit that she was more than a little glad that he'd been at the Zelig compound when she'd arrived. Seeing a familiar face had helped a lot, though she'd been rather disappointed when he'd informed her that he was renting an apartment in Bevelle instead of staying at the mansion. She knew him best, aside from Sebastian, and with the wedding less than a week away, the thought had occurred to her more than once that since she didn't really have anyone else, maybe, maybe . . .

 

Narrowing his eyes, Gunnar seemed to realize that something was bothering Sydnie. “What's on your mind, kitten?” he drawled, his eyes brightening as a lazy little grin surfaced.

 

She sat up, drawing her legs to the side and tilting her head to one side as she carefully regarded the hanyou and tried to swallow the suspect lump that suddenly threatened to choke her. “It's like this, Gunsie . . . I don't have anyone to give me away at my wedding.”

 

His grin widened as he slowly nodded. “Go on.”

 

Twisting her fingers together in a knot in her lap, she cleared her throat and shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. “So I was wondering if you would . . . if you'd do it.”

 

Gunnar blinked as his smile turned a little hesitant, but his eyes were shining. “Really? You know, kitten . . . I'd be hon—” Cutting himself off abruptly, his expression clouding over with a suddenness that shocked her, Gunnar looked absolutely affronted as he drew away, as his mouth dropped open in shock. “Holy dogs, no! Why the hell would I want to give you to that damned cousin of mine?” he growled.

 

Sydnie laughed out loud, unable to control her amusement at the complete derision on Gunnar's features. “But I'm already his mate,” she pointed out.

 

Gunnar snorted. “Incidentals, that . . . I refuse to believe you're really his mate until he marries you. There's no way in hell I'd aid and abet him in that, thank you very much.”

 

She cocked an eyebrow. “Aren't you supposed to be his best man?”

 

“There's that, too,” he admitted.

 

“But wouldn't you rather be at the wedding for me instead of for him?”

 

He snorted.

 

She sighed. “All right . . . If you really don't want to . . . I didn't think you'd pass up the chance to tell everyone that you're my . . . daddy.”

 

He barked out a terse laugh at her reasoning then made a face, heaving a pronounced sigh. “You have a point . . . You're much prettier than Bas is, anyway.”

 

She smiled. “Am I?”

 

“Kami, yes.” He sighed again. “All right, kitty; you win. You realize, right?”

 

“Realize what?”

 

He chuckled again. “That Bas'll hate it.”

 

She smiled, too. “You think so?”

 

“Sure . . . I get the pleasure of asking you who's your daddy; don't you know?”

 

Sydnie giggled and leaned forward to hug Gunnar. He rubbed her back and kissed her cheek before letting her go and sitting back. “I can't think of a better daddy,” she quipped.

 

Gunnar just snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah . . . sometimes being a nice guy really sucks, which is why I don't do it very often.” He stood up and headed for the door, pausing with his hand on the handle and peering over his shoulder at her. “If you see Bas, could you tell him I'm looking for him?”

 

Sydnie nodded and wiggled her fingers. Gunnar grunted and nodded before slipping out of the studio.

 

Amazing, how much lighter she felt. Just one more thing on her mental to-do list, and she'd be all set for the wedding. Her smile faded as she reached for the book again. Too bad she had no idea just how she was going to manage that last thing . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Cain crossed his arms over his bare chest, curling his hands into fists and rubbing his biceps with the heels of his hands to keep from smearing paint all over himself as he stepped back and narrowed his gaze, giving the painting the critical once-over.

 

`It's good, Zelig, but you knew that already.'

 

`Good? Sure . . . it needs to be perfect though . . .'

 

He'd been working on it night and day for the last couple days. He wanted to have it finished in time for Bas and Sydnie's wedding.

 

`A wedding you're not going to attend, remember?'

 

Cain scowled, stepping over to the painting once more and dipping a size “0” brush into the burnt umber paint on the pallet. `It's not my wedding: it's Sydnie's . . . It should be the way she wants it, shouldn't it?'

 

`So you'll miss your oldest son's wedding? And just how do you think Bas feels about that?'

 

`Shuddup, you . . . He understands. He's all right with it.'

 

`Careful of that line, Cain. Your hand's shaking . . .'

 

Heaving a sigh, Cain tossed the brush down on the worktable and reached for a towel. Shaking hands . . . Taking his time as he rinsed the acrylic paints off his hands and dried them, he glanced around the brightly lit studio.

 

“You've been scarce the last couple days.”

 

Cain dropped the towel beside the rinse bucket and smiled as Gin stepped into the room. “You know where I've been,” he remarked.

 

Gin nodded, her eyes lighting up as she inspected the painting. “You've truly got a gift, Zelig-sensei.”

 

He snorted and shrugged, leaning on the table as he watched his wife scrutinize his work. “What's that?” he asked, nodding at the white air courier's envelope she held in her hands.

 

“Oh yes . . . this just came for you. It's from Ben.”

 

“From Ben? Good . . .”

 

She handed it to him and turned her attention back to the painting once more.

 

Cain slit the cardboard mailer open with his claw and pulled the file out. As expected, it was the last of the information that he'd been waiting for: the last bit of the puzzle; the mystery that was Sydnie Taylor. As relieved as he was that he had more answers than he'd suspected he'd find, he still couldn't quite manage a smile. The story wasn't a happy one, as far as he could tell. Explaining all of this to a young woman who couldn't stand him . . . He grimaced.

 

“Was that what you needed?” Gin asked, breaking through his reverie in her ever-gentle way.

 

“Yeah,” he said, heaving a long sigh. “Yeah, it is.”

 

“She'll come around,” Gin insisted. “And for the record, what you're doing . . . I'm sure she'll appreciate it.”

 

Cain wasn't as certain as Gin. Still he forced a little smile and wrapped his arms around her when she slipped hers around his waist. “I'll talk to her tomorrow,” he promised.

 

“Good!” She sighed, resting her cheek against Cain's chest and closing her eyes as he smoothed her hair back out of her face. “I feel for her . . . she's been alone for so long, and been through so much . . . When I look at Jillian and think . . . it just makes me sad, I guess.”

 

“Me, too,” Cain allowed, sighing softly and staring over her head at the darkness outside the windows. “I never meant to fail her . . .”

 

“Of course you didn't,” Gin insisted. “You're a good man, Cain Zelig.”

 

He snorted. “Pfft! That and a buck-fifty'll buy me a cup of coffee, baby girl,” he grumbled sarcastically. “She thinks I failed her, and I can't really say that I didn't.”

 

“Blaming yourself isn't really helping, is it?”

 

Cain nodded, drawing comfort from Gin's gentle demeanor. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her at the start. No matter what was troubling him, her sweet smile, her shining eyes never failed to calm him in a way that he couldn't quite credit. He needed that calm more than ever, especially after his last conversation with Bas . . .

 

“Something else is bothering you, isn't it?” Gin asked quietly.

 

Cain grimaced and brushed aside the twinges of guilt. `Sometimes,' he thought dourly, `she's a little too perceptive . . .'

 

“It's nothing,” he lied, hoping she wouldn't press the matter. He should have known better . . .

 

“Don't you lie to me, Zelig-sensei,” she admonished.

 

Cain shrugged. “Just something Bas said,” he admitted.

 

“Oh? He didn't try to say that he and Sydnie aren't going to get married again, did he?”

 

Cain chuckled at the agitated spike in Gin's youki. “No, no . . . nothing like that.”

 

“Then what?”

 

Letting his arms drop away, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his rumpled khaki slacks and shuffled over to the window. The nearly full moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow on the hills and vales of snow that blanketed the landscape as the dormant world rested. “He mentioned looking into the unsolved cases,” Cain said at length.

 

“And you don't want him to do that,” Gin concluded. He could hear her approaching him; her feet whispering against the worn wooden floor. She stopped behind him.

 

“Those cases aren't pretty,” he told her. “They're about as ugly as you can get.”

 

“But if he can help, shouldn't you let him?”

 

Cain fumbled in his pockets for his crumpled pack of cigarettes. Gin made a face but remained silent while he lit one and lifted his face to blow the smoke toward the high ceiling. “It's not that . . . it's just . . . it's a hell of a lot of work, especially for one person. He'd be running himself ragged, and since he's about to get married . . .” Cain shook his head. “He could do it. I know he could. I just don't know if he should.”

 

“Well, can it wait until after the wedding?”

 

“I don't know, but it's going to. Sydnie should be his top priority.”

 

“Of course she is. Do you doubt that?”

 

“No,” Cain relented. “Not for a moment.”

 

“Good.”

 

He couldn't help but shake his head when Gin smiled happily and gave him a quick squeeze before skittering toward the door. “I've got to check on dinner. Mama's down there keeping an eye on it, but I need to help her.”

 

Cain nodded slowly, turning away from the window, watching his mate's hasty departure. Gin possessed the uncanny ability to view everything with a certain level of innocence, and in so doing, she invariably helped him to believe that things would be all right in the end . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Bas rounded the corner, stepping into the recreation room with a scowl as he listened to the raised voices drifting to him. Stopping in the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest, his scowl shifted into a raised-eyebrowed expression as stared at the confrontation that greeted him. Gunnar was slouching against the wall with a glass of what appeared to be water in his hand and looking somewhat bored while Morio glowered at him, arms crossed over his chest, spine straight, and an uncharacteristically fierce glower on his normally good-natured countenance. Mikio sat on the sofa, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two, and when he caught Bas' eye, he shrugged almost imperceptibly in a `What can you do?' sort of way.

 

“Listen, Morio, I'm not trying to be the ass here, I swear I'm not, but you really are setting yourself up for a huge disappointment if you don't give up on her,” Gunnar explained dryly, lifting the glass to his lips.

 

Morio snorted. “Keh! Shows what you know—nothing! Meara's not like that!”

 

“And I say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,” Gunnar maintained.

 

“Sure, it does,” Morio shot back. “I don't recall Uncle Toga being as much of an ass as you are.”

 

Gunnar sighed. “Her father despises hanyous, Morio. Do you really want to put the girl into a situation where she has to choose between family and you?”

 

“I'd never make her do that!” he snarled, cracking his knuckles as he glowered at Gunnar.

 

“And I'm not saying you would, baka, but her father might. Did you ever stop to think about that before you started stalking this girl?”

 

Morio snorted. “Keh! I'm not stalking her, damn it!”

 

“Then what would you call it?” Gunnar shot back.

 

“Not everyone is as jaded and cynical as you are, Mamoruzen. Meara's a good person, not a judgmental old bastard like her father.”

 

“Yeah, well, that `judgmental old bastard' is also the European tai-youkai. Don't underestimate his influence.”

 

“Thought you weren't scared of anyone,” Morio remarked, left eyebrow arching in challenge.

 

Gunnar narrowed his eyes. “I don't fear him. I just don't like him. There's a difference.”

 

“There isn't! It isn't even an issue! I'd never ask her to choose between her father and me! No one would! As for him, you think I couldn't hold my own against him? I could if I had to.”

 

“In what world can you not see that fighting her father would be the same as making her choose? Baka.”

 

“You know, some people actually don't live and die without ever changing their opinion.”

 

“Yeah? You think so? Fine, then, but I'm telling you, you're being a fool. He's almost as old as Grandfather, and while Grandfather changed his mind, that doesn't mean that the MacDonnough ever will.”

 

Morio rolled his eyes. “It doesn't matter, you know. I want to be with her, not her old man.”

 

“They go hand in hand, Morio. Don't be stupid.”

 

“Stupid? That's rich . . . you're the baka who can't seem to understand that not everyone thinks like you do. Just because you can carry a grudge till the cows come home doesn't mean that everyone can or should. Just back off, will you? I didn't want to hear your ration of shit . . . why do you think I didn't tell you?”

 

Gunnar drew himself up straight and shot Morio a scathing glower, assuming a stance that reminded Bas a little too much of Gunnar's esteemed grandfather. “Fine, then. If you want to be an idiot, what do I care? You'll be the pup running home with his tail tucked neatly between his legs, seeking the comfort of Mama since you can't get it through your thick fucking skull that you're wasting your time on something that will just—never—happen.”

 

Morio stomped over to the window, turning his back on everyone in the room. “Keep your opinions to yourself, Gunnar. I don't give a rat's ass.”

 

Gunnar didn't look like he was going to comply. Eyeing Morio for several seconds, he finally relented, shaking his head slightly before glancing at Bas and nodding. “So there you are.”

 

Bas nodded. “Sydnie said you were looking for me. She also said that you're not going to be my best man, after all.”

 

Gunnar chuckled, obviously opting to dismiss Morio completely. “Sorry, Bas. She's a lot prettier than you.”

 

“God, I hope so.”

 

Morio glanced over his shoulder, his darkened mood dissolving as quickly as a summertime storm. “Don't worry about it, Bas. I'll be happy to be your best man.”

 

Mikio snorted, idly twiddling his left ear. “You're not best man material, Morio,” he pointed out.

 

“Oi! What's that supposed to mean? I'm the perfect choice—the logical choice!”

 

“Yeah,” Mikio agreed mildly, “if you want to mess up Bas' wedding like you did your own parents' one.”

 

“He's got a valid point there,” Gunnar remarked quietly as Bas stopped beside him.

 

Bas chuckled. He remembered the debacle well enough. Morio was given the diamond ring to hold onto during the ceremony. He'd always had a habit of fiddling with whatever was in his hands, especially when he was nervous, and since Kichiro had spent better than an hour telling Morio how important his role as ring-bearer in the wedding was while Morio's father, Ryomaru was getting dressed, Morio had been more than a little nervous. In so doing, he managed to get his claw stuck in the tiny opening at the base of the mounted diamond. It had taken nearly forty-five minutes to get his claw loose, and during those forty-five minutes, the cousins and Mikio had learned more profanities from the various men of the family than they'd ever heard before or since. “Good thing they were just renewing their vows,” he added, “otherwise he'd have ended up married to his own father, and that's just not right.”

 

Gunnar snorted. “Nope.”

 

Morio rolled his eyes. “Give me a break! I was three, and it's not my fault the ring got hooked on my claw.”

 

Mikio chortled, tugging on his ear and shaking his head slowly. “You cried like a baby,” he pointed out.

 

Morio made a face, flopping down on the chair beside Mikio. “You'd have cried, too, if you thought you'd ruined your parents' wedding.”

 

“Nah, you're just a girl.”

 

Morio narrowed his gaze on Mikio but chuckled. “The old man said that he knew that having that wedding was a bad idea. I don't get it, anyway. I mean, he and Mama were already married . . .”

 

Gunnar snorted. “They did it for your grandfather, baka. Aunt Nezumi thought that it'd make him happy.”

 

Morio's grin faded slightly, and he nodded. “That's true,” he admitted. “Grandfather died soon after that.”

 

“Anyway, Bas came in here to ask me to be his best man,” Mikio remarked. “I'd be honored.”

 

Bas opened his mouth to speak but snapped it closed again when Morio turned on his uncle and started listing reasons why he was the much better candidate.

 

“I say we give them swords and whoever is left alive can be your best man,” Gunnar deadpanned.

 

Bas nodded slowly. “'Cept Mikio would wipe the floor with Morio.”

 

Gunnar laughed outright since they both knew that the odds of that happening were slim to none. Even if Mikio could fight, he wouldn't. He was far too gentle for that, anyway, and Morio normally spent more time joking and laughing than he did actually fighting. “You could douse them with tuna water and see who gives first.”

 

Bas snorted. “They're already friends. That won't work.”

 

Gunnar nodded, conceding that point. “A battle of wits?”

 

“That wouldn't even be a contest.”

 

Gunnar scratched his chin. “Right, right . . . Mikio's got that down, too. Maybe you should just ask Mikio . . . after all, he did have a valid point about Morio's last wedding fiasco . . .”

 

“Yeah, but maybe Morio should get another shot to redeem himself.”

 

“You want to take that chance?”

 

Bas grimaced then grinned as Mikio reached over to smack Morio upside the head. Morio growled and retaliated in kind though not nearly as hard as he would have hit Gunnar or Bas. “Good point.”

 

“What are you doing?” Sydnie asked as she slipped into the rec room and wandered over to Bas' side.

 

Gunnar was faster, intercepting Sydnie and drawing her into a hug. “Sydnie!” he greeted.

 

Bas narrowed his eyes at the two. Sydnie giggled and hugged Gunnar tight. “Gunsie!”

 

“Who's your daddy, kitten?”

 

She laughed and cuddled against Gunnar's chest. “Why, you are, puppy!”

 

Bas growled menacingly, wrapping his hand around Sydnie's upper arm and dragging her out of Gunnar's grasp. “That'll be enough of that,” he grouched, much to Gunnar's undisguised amusement. “Help me out here, baby. Which of those two losers should be my new best man?” Bas asked her.

 

“Oh, oh, oh!” Morio hollered, waving his arm in the air. “Pick me! Pick me!”

 

“Pick you?” Mikio shot back, arching an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you? A booger?”

 

“Pick me or I'll have to sing at your wedding to honor the happy couple,” Morio threatened.

 

“Oh, God . . .” Bas groaned, rubbing his forehead.

 

Sydnie glanced back and forth between the wrestling hanyous. “Oh, no, puppy . . . I'm not getting involved in this one.”

 

“Coward,” he shot back with a smile and a quick kiss on her forehead.

 

She giggled. “Well, duh, Sebastian . . . I told you, didn't I? I'm a pussy, remember?”

 

He blushed slightly but smiled.

 

Evan sauntered into the room, rubbing his knuckles down the center of his naked chest as he yawned wide and watched the altercation that was unfolding. “What's going on?”

 

Bas shot him a dismissive glance and shrugged. “They're arguing over who gets to be my best man.”

 

“Oh? Thought Gunsie-wunsie was gonna do that.”

 

“Change in plans,” Gunnar remarked.

 

“Don't sweat it, bubby,” Evan remarked with a cocky grin and using the pet name for Bas that he'd used as a child—one that Bas sorely despised now. It had been cute when Evan was small and couldn't pronounce `Sebastian'. Now, though, Evan only used the name to irritate Bas, and Bas knew it . . . “I'll be happy to be your best man.”

 

Bas barked out an incredulous laugh. “The day you're my best man is the day I die,” he grumbled.

 

Evan's face contorted in an exaggerated show of upset. “Ouch. I'd ask you to be my best man.”

 

Bas snorted. “Like hell, you would! If you could find a woman stupid enough to marry you—and that's a huge `if'—then I'd be the last person you'd ask.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Evan drawled, waving a hand to brush off his brother. “You'll see, bubby . . . I'll ask you when the time comes, and then you'll have to eat that slice of humble pie . . .”

 

Bas rolled his eyes as Evan strolled out of the room once more. “Pfft! He'll never, ever find a woman who'll be willing to put up with his bullshit,” he maintained.

 

Gunnar shrugged. “If you can find one who is willing to put up with your grouchiness, then I'd say he has a shot.”

 

Bas snorted again. “You're a fine one to talk. The odds that you'll find a woman who can live up to your standards are even slimmer than the chances that Evan has.”

 

“That's entirely different,” Gunnar went on. “I don't want to get married. Ever.”

 

“Yeah? Bet Uncle likes that,” Morio piped up. Sprawled half off his chair with his hand extended to fend off Mikio, he grunted moments later when Mikio bit into his finger that had strayed a little too close to Mikio's mouth. “Ouch, damn it! Did you get your rabies shot lately?”

 

Mikio chuckled as Morio jerked his hand away and sat back, crossing his right arm over his stomach and lifting his left hand to tweak his ear absently.

 

“Father can get over it,” Gunnar maintained. “I'll find a mate someday. Responsibility, of course. As for marriage? Keh!”

 

“You're such a romantic,” Morio grumbled sarcastically before throwing himself onto the sofa and catching Mikio in a headlock. Mikio grasped a thick handful of Morio's hair and jerked. Morio howled and tightened the hold around his uncle's neck.

 

Bas made a face. “This is getting ugly.”

 

Gunnar nodded then grunted before stepping over to grab Morio and shove him away from Mikio. “All right. We'll do this my way. Since I was going to be the best man, I get to decide who takes my place.” Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a quarter and tossed it to Bas, who caught the coin in his mouth with a scowl and spit it out into his hand.

 

“Asshole,” Bas grumbled, clicking his tongue a few times to dispel the metallic taste of the coin.

 

Gunnar grinned unrepentantly. “Okay, Bas is going to flip that coin—then he's going to keep it, because I certainly don't want it back after he's sucked on it . . . Anyway, heads is Mikio, and tails is Morio.”

 

“Oi! Why am I tails?” Morio demanded.

 

“Because you're an ass,” Bas and Gunnar shot back in unison.

 

“Oh. Okay,” Morio agreed pleasantly enough.

 

“Flip the coin already,” Mikio interrupted.

 

Bas laughed and tossed the quarter.

 

“Well?” Mikio demanded.

 

“Yeah! Who will it be?” Morio added, chucking a wad of paper at his uncle. Mikio hadn't seen it coming, and it bounced off his head.

 

Bas lifted his hand to peer at the coin and winced. “Best two out of three?” he asked.

 

“No,” Morio and Mikio grumbled.

 

“It's Morio, isn't it?” Gunnar speculated. “Just don't let him hold the ring, and you'll be fine.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Bas grinned. “All right. You just don't want him to be your best man; I get it.”

 

Gunnar chuckled but didn't deny it as Morio stood up to gloat. Mikio rolled his eyes and snatched the paper wad off the floor before whipping it back at his nephew. Morio caught it in his teeth and spit it out before flopping down on the sofa beside Mikio and seizing Mikio's face to plant an obnoxiously loud kiss on the older hanyou's cheek. Mikio grunted and shoved Morio away as Sydnie giggled and slipped her arms around Bas' waist.

 

Bas grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the room behind him. “What's the matter, puppy? Don't feel like talking?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

 

Bas shrugged and grinned. “Let them finish fighting it out. I just want to spend some time with my kitty.”

 

Her smile brightened considerably. “I looked for you earlier,” she informed him. “Where were you?”

 

“Before or after the old man tried to knock the shit out of me?”

 

“Either.”

 

He grimaced. “Mom said if I bothered you while you were finalizing plans for the wedding that she'd take her Kusarigama after me. I'd rather not see if she was being serious.”

 

She made a face but laughed. “Your mother wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, Sebastian,” she pointed out.

 

Bas snorted, pulling Sydnie along the hallway toward the studio apartment. “You've never seen her mad, then.”

 

 

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

A/N:

 

Shikon no Kakera: Shards of the Shikon no Tama (Sacred Jewel of Four Souls).

Kusarigama: Kohaku's weapon… also Gin's weapon…

 

 

http://suericfanfics.forumsplace.com/message-522-0.html (it's the very first post in the World of Purity thread) There's your family tree along with a listing of ceremonial colors and other miscellaneous stuff ... Lol! You have to be a member of the board to see it, but it's one of the fastest ways to get answers to your questions in general as I check the boards all the time. Anyway, there you go … once the family tree is completely defined, I'll post it on the site, too.

 

If someone has trouble with their inner ear, it can and often does lead to impaired balance and even vertigo and nausea if it is bad enough. Ever have a really bad ear infection? Something like that, minus the fever …

 

Gunnar … Gunnar … Oh, yes, Gunnar … there are a couple source images for him. One was sketched by Melzilla and can be found here: http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/27192910/ …

OROsan0677 ------ Morana_Luna_Marchand ------ 1Inuyashafan ------ FireDemon86 ------ Simply a Lady ------ angelfire777 ------ artemiswaterdragon

She threatened him …?

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~