InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Good Deeds ( Chapter 12 )

~~Chapter 12~~

~Good Deeds~

 

 

 

Jillian yawned and snuggled closer to Gavin's side. The sun was just coming up, and the strong breeze blowing in the window carried the barest scent of rain. `The perfect day for lounging in bed and cuddling,' she thought with a little grin. `Too bad Gavvie won't go for that . . .'

 

Shivering as the wind took on a cooler edge, Jillian burrowed deeper under the covers, tucking herself even closer to Gavin. His breathing caught, but he didn't wake up. She smiled to herself, savoring the feel of his arm wrapped securely around her waist. He never had been much of a morning person.

 

As content as she was to simply snuggle with him, though, she was wide awake—and hungry. Leaning up on her elbow, she spared a few minutes to look at him as a gentle smile illuminated her gaze. She loved mornings. It was one of the few times that she could really indulge her desire to simply stare at Gavin. When he caught her doing that during the day, he'd blush and turn all bashful. Then she had to tease him out of his embarrassment before he could relax enough to be himself, and while she didn't mind teasing him, she didn't really like for him to ever feel self-conscious. It was something she'd never, ever understood. He'd always been her hero, hadn't he? He'd never had anything to be self-conscious about.

 

Then again . . .

 

Her smile widened. Last night they'd spent the evening with Moe and Natalie Jamison. They lived on the south border of the ranch in a small house that, according to Gavin, had been built just before he was born. Moe had never been a rancher, Gavin had said, so he'd never really wanted the ranch, either.

 

Funny, really. Gavin was so much like his father that it bordered on perverse. Both men tended to be fairly quiet, very serious. In the few hours that they'd spent at the Jamison house, Moe might have said a total of ten words, and yet he never came off as unfriendly, either. He had a way of staring directly into people's eyes, making it obvious that he was listening even if he didn't really have much to say. Right after the meal, both he and Gavin had disappeared into what Natalie had affectionately deemed, `The Gadget Room' so that Moe could show off his latest intel-gathering devices.

 

“Sometimes I swear the only reason he likes hunting is because he gets all the state-of-the-art gizmos,” Natalie said as she carried the empty roast beef platter into the kitchen.

 

Jillian laughed as she grabbed a cream-colored china bowl that had been heaped with garden-fresh green beans and baby onions and followed Natalie through the swinging taupe leather-covered door. “So that's where Gavin gets his affinity for electronics?”

 

Natalie rolled her bright green eyes and laughed. “Something like that.”

 

Rolling up her sleeves while Natalie filled one side of the double-basin sink with rinse water, Jillian grabbed a clean, white dishcloth off the counter and started washing glasses. “He looks just like his father,” she went on, smiling to herself in a vague sort of way.

 

“Gavin? Yes, he does—a fact that Moe is constantly pointing out to me, you know.”

 

Jillian laughed. It was absolutely true. Natalie Jamison was a tiny woman with ash blonde hair and sparkling green eyes—eyes so green that they looked like she wore contacts to enhance the color. Gavin had always spoken of his mother in the highest of regard, and while Jillian had met Natalie a few times in the past, it was the first time she'd really spoken with her one-on-one. It was easy to see why Gavin loved his mother so much. She was absolutely charming.

 

It had occurred to her at the time, how strange it was that the two men—father and son—were fundamentally so similar and yet they'd chosen such vastly different professions. Gavin had said many times that he was eventually going to move to Montana and renovate the ranch, and though he'd mentioned before that his father had always hoped that Gavin would choose to be a hunter, too, Moe hadn't ever tried to bully Gavin into doing it, either. It was just as well, in Jillian's opinion. Gavin just wasn't a hunter. Then again, maybe it wasn't so odd. Her oldest brother, Sebastian—Bas to most; Bassie to her—was a hunter for a brief time. It was a matter of protecting what one believed in, wasn't it? It was simply that protection, itself, could come in any number of ways. For Moe Jamison, it was by becoming a hunter and protecting the beliefs that he lived by. For her father, it was by conducting the business of the tai-youkai—something that Jillian knew her father did because it was his duty; not because he enjoyed it. For Gavin . . .

 

For Gavin, it was as simple as protecting her. Even if he never had to do it in a physical sense, he'd always been the one who made her feel safe; secure. He was the one she sought out when she needed comfort or when she was afraid. Maybe in that he was more like his father than he gave himself credit for . . .

 

Smiling gently as she carefully brushed Gavin's bangs out of his face, Jillian let her fingertips trail along the roughened skin of his cheek. Unconsciously turning toward her touch, he sighed. Jillian bit her lips, pressing her free hand against her chest as her heart skipped a beat. His lips parted slightly, and he seemed to whisper something that wasn't completely coherent, and for one brief, dizzying moment, Jillian thought she heard her name.

 

`You'd better stop it,' her youkai chided.

 

Jillian sighed, letting her hand drop away from his face as she carefully slipped out of the security of Gavin's arm and off the bed. True enough, she spent every morning in much the same fashion—staring at Gavin while he slept. She was also very careful to be out of bed by the time he woke up since he'd probably freak if he caught her eyeing him like that . . .

 

Grabbing the keys to the truck off the bureau, she padded to the door and paused long enough to glance back at him. If she hurried, she'd have time to run to the grocery store in Hidekea for fresh fruit to go with breakfast before Gavin woke up . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“She can't have simply disappeared.”

 

Gritting his teeth together as he tossed the tabloid paper aside, he flexed his fist tightly, stalking around the room like a caged beast. Saying the words out loud did little to dispel the absolute frustration that gripped him. He'd been so close, hadn't he? So very, very close, and now . . .

 

Now he was back to square one.

 

“Damn it!” he gnashed out. She'd managed to slip through his fingers, making a mockery of him; making him look like a fool.

 

If the tabloids couldn't even find her . . .

 

Well, that was saying something, wasn't it?

 

Maybe she knew more than she ought to. The thought had occurred to him more than once since her disappearance. It was bad enough that she'd disappeared—worse was the feeling that her disappearance made him look completely inept.

 

Flopping into a chair in the nondescript hotel room, he drummed his claws on the ratty armrest, jaw ticking as he considered his options.

 

She was with that man, wasn't she? He'd seen them together before. He escorted her all over New York City. If he could figure out who the man was, maybe he could find her, too—if the two of them were still together.

 

Digging a cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed the number of the airport.

 

“Cancun International,” a woman greeted.

 

“Yes, I need the next available flight out.”

 

“Okay,” she said, her fingertips clicking rapidly on a computer keyboard. “Destination?”

 

He leaned forward, glowering at the tabloid on the coffee table. “New York City.”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Gavin stomped outside, jamming his hat onto his head as he strode down the porch and headed for the main stable, muttering dire invectives under his breath as he shot a fulminating glower at the empty spot in the driveway where his truck should have been. Muttering about irrational women and car theft, he jerked the brim of his hat a little lower to shield the rain out of his face, grabbing the door handle with his free hand and giving it a good, hard yank.

 

It scared him, damn it: scared him more than he wanted to admit. Waking up to find out that Jillian had arisen long before he had wasn't uncommon, but normally he found her somewhere nearby unless she had a photo shoot. When he'd gotten up only to figure out that she had taken the truck and left, though, especially after the last picture that Mickey B. had sent . . . Well, it simply wasn't sitting well with him. He wanted Jillian where he could see her. She was just too friendly, too open, and it made her too much of a target . . .

 

“Mornin', Gavvie,” Hank drawled over the rim of his coffee mug.

 

“Where's Jillian?” he demanded without preamble as he took off his hat and shook off the rain.

 

“No idea,” Hank replied, draining his coffee in one long gulp. “Should I have one?”

 

Gavin snorted, hooking his hat over a nail beside the door. “I don't know,” he grumbled. “I just figured you'd put her up to something.”

 

“I ain't seen her today, if that's what you're asking.”

 

Grabbing a reasonably clean mug off the stack beside the old coffee maker, Gavin grabbed the pot to fill it. “You're sure?”

 

Hank shrugged. “Hell, Gavin . . . it's raining fishhooks and hammer handles out there . . . you think I got nothing better to do than stand around getting soaked so I can keep an eye on your truck?”

 

“Yes,” Gavin growled though the scowl on his face said otherwise.

 

Hank laughed. “Yeah, well, sorry . . . Figured I'd spend the day mending tack. The reports said we were in for it, so . . .”

 

“Wuss.”

 

Hank grinned unrepentantly. “You're calling me a wuss?”

 

“Seems so, doesn't it?”

 

“In that case . . . absolutely.”

 

Gavin finally chuckled though he kept glancing at the window toward the empty driveway outside. “Where are the guys?”

 

“Some of them are sleeping in. A couple others are taking the day off.”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Am I paying them for today?”

 

Hank nodded, taking the coffee pot and dumping the last of it into his cup before replacing it and turning off the machine. “Yup.”

 

Gavin paused with the mug hovering near his lips. “Figures.”

 

Hank chuckled and ambled back over to the tack table once more. “So you're telling me Jillian didn't leave you a note?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Maybe she ran off to find a real man . . . `Course, she wouldn't have had to go further than the barn. I been out here all morning.”

 

“In your dreams,” Gavin snorted.

 

Hank chuckled. “Yeah, yeah . . . hand me that bridle, will you?”

 

Gavin shot Hank a glower but tossed the gear at him. It landed on the table beside him. Glancing back at the window, Gavin couldn't contain the relieved little sigh as the contorted beams from the truck's headlights cut through the dismal grayness outside. Striding over to the door without bothering to grab his hat, he stomped outside into the unrelenting rain but stopped short when the passenger side door opened, and a strange man stepped out.

 

“Hi, Gavvie!” Jillian greeted brightly as she ran over to give him a quick hug as though she didn't realize it was raining. “Sorry it took me so long . . . I got sidetracked.”

 

“So I see,” he grumbled without taking his eyes off the young man who stood beside the truck with his shoulders scrunched up looking completely miserable. Hair plastered to his head, ragged denim jacket dripping too much water for him to have been dry in the truck. “Who's that?”

 

Glancing over her shoulder, Jillian's mouth rounded in an `oh' seconds before she darted over and grabbed the young man's hand, dragging him toward the stable and leaving Gavin behind to glower after them.

 

“Take that wet jacket off before you catch a cold,” Jillian demanded as she hurried over to start a fresh pot of coffee. “Hank, do you have a dry shirt he can wear? I'll throw his in the dryer, but he's soaked to the skin.”

 

Hank blinked and shot Gavin a questioning glance as he pulled off the flannel shirt he was wearing over a plain black tee-shirt. “Here,” he said, tossing the shirt at the stranger.

 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice quiet, unsure.

 

“He needs a job, Gavvie,” Jillian went on as she measured coffee grounds into a clean filter.

 

Gavin carefully blanked his features as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Does `he' have a name?”

 

“Oh . . . s-sorry . . . Cody . . . Cody Mitchell,” the man said.

 

Gavin slowly gave Cody the once-over. If the kid was older than twenty-four, Gavin would eat his Stetson. Not small, exactly, but very wiry, Hank's shirt hung on Cody's lean frame like a sheet, and he shivered slightly but didn't look away. “You from around here, Cody?” Gavin asked.

 

Cody nodded. “Yeah . . . from Hidekea.”

 

Gavin shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I don't—”

 

Jillian turned on the coffee pot and hurried over, linking her arm through Gavin's and pinning him with a meaningful glance. “Help me bring in the groceries, Gavvie? I left them in the back of the truck.”

 

He snorted but followed her back out into the rain. It didn't show any signs of letting up, but Jillian didn't seem to mind. “Jilli, do you know anything about that guy?” he demanded as she shoved soggy paper bags into his arms.

 

“Hold onto the bottom of the bags or they'll rip,” she replied, raising her voice to be heard over the falling rain and rumbling thunder. She scooped up the last bag, carefully wrapping her arms around it so that it didn't tear. “He was standing beside the road with a sign that said, `Will Work for Food'.”

 

Following her up to the house, Gavin rolled his eyes and waited while she bumped the door open with her hip. “That's all you know?”

 

Jillian laughed as she trailed water through the house into the kitchen. “No . . . he's got two little girls and his wife's expecting . . . He said he worked at some car factory, but they shut down a few months ago . . .”

 

Gavin frowned. He remembered hearing something about that. His mother had mentioned that the Chrysalis plant in Helena had closed down without giving the employees any notice just after the start of the year, leaving over a thousand people out of work. Sure, some of them probably moved to find work elsewhere, but surely not all of them could have done that. Still, he didn't know anything at all about this guy, and Jillian . . . He sighed. They didn't have a clue who was stalking her. Giving this kid a job . . . well, Gavin wasn't sure he could do that. “Jilli . . .”

 

She likely heard the reticence in his voice because she hurried to say, “You have to give him a job, Gavvie. He needs it in the worst way.”

 

He grimaced. Under normal circumstances, he'd believe the young man's story, hands down, but with Jillian's safety on the line, well, he just couldn't do that, could he? “We don't know anything about him,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don't think it's a good idea.”

 

“His wife is pregnant! You can't just send him away like that!”

 

Ignoring the sharp pang from his conscience, Gavin heaved a sigh. “He doesn't even look like he knows a damn thing about working on a ranch,” he pointed out.

 

She shook her head and set a bag of red grapes on the counter. “At least find something for him to do today. I tried to give him money, you know. He wouldn't take it. He doesn't want a hand-out, Gavin. He wants to earn it.”

 

He'd have been fine, he supposed, if he hadn't looked at her. As it was, one glance at her pleading expression was just a little more than he could stand. Coupled with the knowledge that the guy's wife was expecting and that they had two little ones at home already, Gavin couldn't say no so easily. “Let me go talk to him,” he grumbled, “but I'm not making any promises.”

 

Jillian clapped her hands and bounced up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Gavvie! You're such a sweet man!”

 

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Gavin turned on his heel and headed back to the stable once more. So long as Cody checked out, maybe he could find something else for him to do . . .

 

He found Cody sitting at the table beside Hank with a cup of coffee clutched in his hands and looking around as though he were completely lost. It was quite obvious to Gavin that it was the first time Cody had ever been anywhere near horses, and the sinking feeling in his chest grew a little heavier. Yes, he'd promised Jillian that he'd see about putting the young man to work. Trouble was, he wasn't sure he had anything that Cody could do.

 

“You're not used to the animals,” Gavin commented as he grabbed his mug and filled it with coffee.

 

Cody grimaced, cheeks pinking, and he looked like he wanted to argue that. “No, sir,” he admitted at last.

 

“What can you do?”

 

Cody shrugged. “Not sure,” he replied honestly—miserably. “I'm not so good with animals. More of a mechanic, really . . .”

 

“Mechanics?”

 

Cody nodded then winced. “Uh, yeah . . . I'm pretty handy with cars and stuff, but I don't have the certificate.” He grimaced. “I was saving up the money to get certified, but the factory shut down.”

 

“You know, Gav, you've got those trucks out back that could be fixed,” Hank commented neutrally, carefully keeping his gaze on the bridle he was retooling.

 

Gavin scratched his chin as he considered that. “True enough . . . you think you could take a look at those?”

 

“I could do that,” Cody blurted, obviously relieved to find something that he might be able to do and just as obviously eager to work, too.

 

“Why don't you take a look at them when the rain lets up while I call some references . . . you have some references, right?”

 

“Oh, uh, okay . . . If you have a piece of paper . . .”

 

Hank dug one out and slapped a pen down on it, sending Gavin a knowing grin that Gavin summarily ignored.

 

Cody drummed the pen on the table, glancing around almost nervously before he cleared his throat to speak. “If you have a phone book . . . there're some guys I worked with at the Chrysalis plant. Last time I tried to find an address for a reference from Chrysalis, the place told me that they couldn't get a phone number . . . You need my social security number or anything?”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed. He'd call Bas in a bit and ask him to run it through the system.

 

“I could look at the trucks now,” Cody offered as he leafed through the phone book Hank had given him. “I'm not worried about a little rain.”

 

Gavin grinned despite himself. “They're not going anywhere, and with any luck the rain'll let up sooner than later. You need to give your wife a call?”

 

Cody grimaced. “Ah, well . . . we don't have a phone. She'll be okay.”

 

“Is there someone nearby you can call? Was she expecting you home soon?”

 

“Not really . . . I went out to check on some applications and fill out a few more.” He sighed and shook his head. “Can you believe that McDonald's isn't hiring?”

 

Actually, it didn't surprise him. Jobs were few and far between in these parts, he knew. “McDonald's wouldn't pay enough to help much,” Gavin mused.

 

Cody scratched his head with a thoughtful frown on his face. “Yeah, well, it'd pay something, and I'm not picky.” He narrowed his gaze as his cheeks pinked, but he didn't look away when he admitted, “We don't qualify for food stamps and stuff . . . we'd just got a loan for a house when the factory shut down, and since we're not renting, the welfare won't help.” He shrugged. “To start with, they wouldn't help because we own a house and had some savings—”

 

“Your money you were saving to get certified?”

 

He nodded. “They're covering my daughters' medical, though, and Sherry—my wife—she'll be covered for the baby. That's about it . . . till the bank forecloses on the house.”

 

“Sorry to hear that.”

 

Cody shrugged again. “Not a big deal, right? My girls are healthy. We can start over. Just sort of sucks. All the money we'd been saving's gone on the house and the bills . . . According to them, you have to lose everything before they can help at all, I guess.”

 

Gavin nodded, too. “Well, let me check your references then we'll talk.”

 

“Okay . . . uh, thanks . . . Thanks a lot, even if it's just for one day.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” Gavin said, taking the paper and heading for the doors once more, hoping that Cody was being completely honest with him. Maybe it was Jillian's influence, but he kind of wanted to help the kid . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Gavin pulled into the narrow driveway, careful not to bump into the little pink tricycle with white and pink plastic streamers hanging from the glittery plastic handlebars. The toy was faded by the sun and rusted around the spokes in the tires, but Gavin smiled at the obvious care that had been taken with the little girl's tricycle.

 

Bas had been happy to run a full background check on Cody, and Gavin had been relieved to find out that the young man had been more than forthcoming with his story. It was a relief, and in return for this honesty, Gavin had offered him a full time job at the ranch. Cody would be in charge of maintaining all the machinery on the place—a job that Cody had seemed genuinely thrilled with. It wasn't a small task by any means, and certainly wasn't a hand-out. Besides the regular vehicles, there was also a building of farm machinery that needed repaired, too. The goal was to utilize some of the land to grow feed, and the equipment sorely needed to be fixed before that could be possible.

 

“Sorry,” Cody muttered when he caught sight of the toy. “Been telling Minnie not to leave her bike there, but she's been careless lately. Didn't seem like a big deal after they came and repo'ed the car.”

 

“Minnie?” Gavin echoed, trying to hide his smile at the old-fashioned name.

 

Cody laughed a little self-consciously. “That's what we call her. Her real name's Justina, but she had really big ears and no hair when she was born . . . Reminded us of Minnie Mouse.”

 

“So long as it fits,” Gavin agreed with a chuckle. “I'll probably send Hank after you in the morning, but days on a ranch start pretty early, so don't be surprised if he's here by six.”

 

“That's cool,” Cody assured him as he let himself out of the truck. “Tell your wife, thanks . . . I appreciate everything she did for us.”

 

Gavin stopped short, unable to keep the instantaneous heat from filtering into his cheeks. “She's not—we're not—uh, we aren't married.”

 

“Oh . . . I'm sorry,” Cody said with an apologetic shrug. “I just thought—I mean, you seemed like . . .” Shaking his head, he trailed off, obviously uncomfortable with the personal nature of the conversation. “Sorry.”

 

Shoving aside his acute embarrassment, Gavin got out, too, and pushed the bench seat forward to retrieve the huge basket of staple groceries that Jillian had packed up. Turning long enough to hand off the burden, Gavin shoved the seat back into place and closed the door before grabbing the ice chest out of the back of the truck. “Here's some meat. The boys'll be slaughtering a couple cows in a few weeks, so don't worry about it. Where do you want this?”

 

Cody opened his mouth to reply when a high-pitched voice rang out behind them. “Daddy!” the little girl yelled as she practically flew out the front door and down the sidewalk to cling onto her father's legs.

 

“Hey, Minnie . . . how's Mommy doing?” Cody asked, shifting the basket so he could reach down and ruffle his daughter's pale blonde hair.

 

“Mommy's giving Karis a baff,” Minnie replied. “Look! I oft a toof!”

 

Cody laughed when his daughter pried her own mouth open with her fingers so that he could see the gap in her teeth. “So you did.”

 

“I'll just, uh . . .” Gavin mumbled, setting the ice chest in the grass beside the driveway. “Just bring the cooler back tomorrow.”

 

Cody nodded, contorting his body in an effort not to dislodge his daughter, hold onto the basket, and shake Gavin's hand. “I will,” he promised.

 

Gavin nodded as he dug one last thing from his pocket: a cell phone. Here.”

 

Cody frowned but slowly held out his hand. “But—”

 

Gavin shook his head and opened the door again. “No `buts'. Your wife's pregnant, and you don't have a vehicle, right? You call me if she goes into labor . . . besides, you'll be working on those trucks, right? If she needs you, she should have a way to get a hold of you. Don't worry about it. It's a prepaid phone. I put a thousand minutes on it, but after that, it's up to you for as long as you need it.”

 

He looked like he wanted to argue, but after glancing down at his daughter then at the empty doorway, he finally nodded. “Thanks.”

 

Gavin grinned as he climbed back into the truck. “Don't thank me. Jillian would've killed me if I hadn't gotten a phone for you.”

 

“Thank her, too.”

 

“You need anything before I take off? I can run you to the store, if you need it.”

 

Cody shook his head and smiled as Minnie dug into the basket with a happy little squeal. “You've done more than enough, sir.”

 

Gavin chuckled and started the engine. “Just Gavin, okay?”

 

“Okay . . .” Cody agreed with the most normal smile that Gavin had seen from him all day. “I'll see you tomorrow, Gavin.”

 

 

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A/N:

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Reviewers

 

Yukimi (edited for length):

I'm just wondering, from what I've seen in the anime and some of the manga, most of the creature youkai had tails... but you never mention any of the full youkai having tails... Just an idle curiosity. Also, you mention Evan is going to be Purity 9... I'm wondering who 7 & 8 will be. Maybe Gunnar's in there somewhere?

 

You're also thinking of lesser-youkai. Dog-youkai(depicted as being `greater-youkai', arguably the greatest of the youkai)have never been depicted to have tails. That aside, before the edict, the youkai were not trying to hide their natures. They did not use concealments to hide anything about themselves. Since Sesshoumaru's edict, however, they've been forced to hide everything about their true forms. When humans look at them, they see them as human (no tails. Lol). When the youkai were killed off by humans in the mass murder of youkai centuries before, only the strongest of their kind survived. As such, they had stronger powers than the rest of their kind, and because of this, the lattergenerations were strengthened, too. Darwinism at its best, I suppose. In any case, the ones left alive were both smart enough to hide what they were and they were stronger magically than the ones who didn't survive. To that end, they had a better ability to hide their natures under concealments. I hope this makes sense. Notice, too, that there are a lot of `formless' youkai in the anime/manga; ones that appear to be snakelike creatures with no truly recognizable form. Notice that there are none in the Purityrealm. Theoretically, they were all killed off by humans with guns.

As to the questions about the next few Purities… Let's see if I dare give any answers … Purity 7: Avouchment(working title)follows on the heels of this story … You'll understand why when it is ready to be posted. Lol. Purity 8: Vendetta(working title) is a bit of a departure from the overall tone of the Puritystories as a whole and might not be something that every reader will choose to read, but it will be interesting. Purity 9: Subterfuge(working title) is our boy Evan at his baddest … Purity 10: Anomaly(working title) focuses on (insert huge SQUEEE here) Mikio … Purity 11is a (oh, no! Massive amounts of static interference … words cannot be heard over the din…) Purity 12is (finally) Gunnar. The continuations started with Toga. It only seems right to me that they should end with his son …The payoff? Every single continuation of the original Purity leads up to Gunnar's story, even if it doesn't seem like it at the time …

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MMorg

OROsan0677 ------ Crolynx

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Forum Reviews

zoriko ------ TenshiKaika ------ My Own Self ------ OROsan0677 ------ Piett

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Final Thought fromJillian:

I knew Gavvie would help!

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Shameless): 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~