InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Dogpile ( Chapter 18 )

~~Chapter 18~~

~Dogpile~

 

 

 

`This is a really bad idea.'

 

Jillian bit her lip as she ran the brush through her hair and tried to ignore the nagging voice of her youkai blood. It was the only thing she could do. Bad idea or not, it didn't matter when she knew deep down that she was living on borrowed time, so to speak.

 

`It has to work,' she argued. `There's nothing else I can do.'

 

`Yeah, well, the only reason Gavin agreed to this little charade is because you stooped to all new lows.'

 

`All new lows, huh?'

 

`What would you call it when you cried to get your way?'

 

Setting the brush aside, she reached for the butterfly necklace that she'd removed before she took a shower. `Okay, so I'm not particularly proud of that,' she admitted as she turned the butterfly over in her fingers. To be honest, she hadn't meant to cry, but she'd felt so desperate that she couldn't help it. Sure, she cried in front of Gavin often enough. Somehow she didn't think that crying over a movie or play was quite the same as tearing up because he said, `no'. Normally she'd lock herself away somewhere if she really needed to let go. She'd known ever since she was little that Gavin just didn't know what to do when she cried.

 

Sometime during the restless night she'd spent huddled against Gavin's side with an ache so deep that it threatened to engulf her, she'd come to a few realizations. Firstly, she'd never truly be able to move on so long as she thought that there was any chance—even the tiniest one—that Gavin might one day realize that he belonged with her. Secondly, she'd never be able to reconcile herself to anything if she saw Gavin every day. He'd been her world for so long that she'd forgotten exactly what it meant, to live without him—if she'd ever known how to do that, in the first place.

 

She'd loved him too long, hadn't she? Was it true, as Gavin seemed to think, that she'd somehow managed to convince herself that she loved him when she really simply relied on him as a friend? Could it possibly be that all of her emotions had been tricked into believing that Gavin was the one when he really wasn't?

 

She sighed, letting the necklace fall from her fingertips onto the dresser once more. Maybe she had. She'd heard crazier things. Maybe she'd relied a little too much on Gavin to provide the sense of security that she'd so desperately wanted. Sure, she loved her parents; her family, but Gavin was the one she'd always gravitated toward. Never as happy as she was when she was with him, he'd been too big a part of her life for so long that the idea of being without him scared her half to death.

 

Still she knew. It was time. If not now, then she'd never be able to do it, would she? And she owed him. Of course she did. He'd spent so long taking care of her and watching out for her that the least she could do was help him overcome his shyness with women. If she could do that—if she could convince herself that he'd be fine without her . . . maybe then she really could walk away.

 

Telling herself for the hundredth time that all she had to do was get through one day at a time, she forced a smile then heaved a sigh. If she couldn't convince herself that her smile was sincere, how on earth would she ever convince Gavin?

 

`Enough of that,' she told herself sternly. `I can sulk and pout my last few days, or I can make sure that our time together is something that Gavin will always remember . . . Mama always says that it's best to smile, especially when you don't feel like doing it . . .'

 

She started to turn to leave but stopped short, glancing back at the glittering butterfly lying on the dresser. Biting her lip, she grabbed it and hooked it around her neck as she hurried out of the room.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

`You're a sucker, you know that?'

 

Gavin grimaced and peered over the top of the menu, casting a surreptitious glance at the young woman seated across from him. Thoughtfully staring at the menu in her hands, she didn't seem to notice his ardent perusal. What he'd intended to simply be a quick glance lingered, though. Captured in the ambient light of the fake candle's flame, her eyes were darker, more mysterious; her skin a tawny hue. Hair drawn back away from her face, her eyelashes fanned down to kiss the skin of her cheeks, she bit her rouged lip as she carefully considered her options. It struck him once more, just how beautiful she was, not that he'd ever actually forgotten. It was simply another reminder of just how close she was, and yet . . . and yet she felt so very far away.

 

`If you're so set on not being her mate, you should have told her that going on a date wasn't a good idea,' his youkai voice pointed out.

 

`I did,' he insisted, dragging his attention back to the menu once more.

 

`Sure, you did . . . you told her that you didn't want to go then caved the moment you smelled those tears, didn't you?'

 

He heaved an inward sigh and ran his finger along his neckline. “You, uh, know what you want?” he finally asked, breaking the companionable silence that had fallen after the waitress had given them the menus.

 

Jillian glanced up and smiled. “I don't know . . . what would you suggest?”

 

He shrugged, willing himself not to blush. Her smile was just too potent. “Well . . . um . . . it depends on what you're in the mood for. Their steaks are excellent . . . their seafood is okay, but since you're from Maine, it's not nearly as fresh as what you're used to.”

 

Her eyes glossed over as her smile took on a dreamy quality. “Mm . . . lobster . . .” she sighed. “Or thick, creamy clam chowder . . .”

 

He chuckled. “Yeah, well . . . you might want to stick with the steak,” he pointed out.

 

“I like steak,” she decided. “Sounds good.”

 

“Okay, Jilli,” he said, raising his hand to summon the waitress.

 

“You brought your cell, right?”

 

Narrowing his eyes, he nodded slowly. “Yeah . . . why?”

 

She shrugged. “Just making sure. Cody said that Sherry was feeling a little under the weather today . . .”

 

“Yeah . . . her doctor said that she could go at any time.”

 

“Maybe you should check, just to make sure you're getting full signal,” she prompted.

 

Gavin grinned and pulled the phone from his pocket. “All right,” he agreed as he glanced at the signal indicator. “Not perfect, but it's good enough,” he told her.

 

“All right,” she said, smiling at the waitress who had returned with their drinks.

 

Gavin made short work of ordering their meals and sipped the soda he'd ordered as Jillian stirred her iced tea. “You look nice,” he finally remarked.

 

Jillian's cheeks pinked though her smile didn't falter. “You . . . you think so?”

 

“Well, yeah . . . you always look nice.”

 

Her smile widened. “You're so sweet, Gavvie.”

 

He blushed at her praise. “You, uh . . . you spent all day in the basement?”

 

She nodded. “I got most of the pictures printed out. I'll show you later, if you want.”

 

“Okay.”

 

He could feel the underlying tension beneath her calm façade. She wasn't happy; he knew she wasn't, and while he knew it had a lot to do with his abrupt insistence that the kiss they'd shared shouldn't have happened, he had a feeling it went much deeper than that. What he didn't know was how to make everything all right again . . .

 

She'd been carefully polite since that night by the pond. She'd smiled and laughed and tried to pretend that she was fine, and he couldn't help the feeling that nagged him deep down; the feeling that she was slowly slipping away from him again.

 

“Earth to Gavin . . . are you okay?”

 

Snapping out of his abysmal thoughts, Gavin forced a wan smile and turned his full attention on Jillian once more. “Of course,” he insisted. “Why wouldn't I be?”

 

She shook her head slowly and shrugged. “I don't know . . . you looked like you were a million miles away.”

 

“Nope,” he lied, praying she didn't see right through him.

 

With a sigh, her smile diminished, and she shrugged almost nervously. “I got a job offer,” she said, her tone carefully light.

 

“Yeah?”

 

She nodded, fiddling with the salad fork beside her plate. “Yeah . . . Danny called to tell me about it. He said it'd be a lot of money . . .”

 

“As if you don't normally make a lot of money,” Gavin grumbled.

 

“More than normal, he said.”

 

“Yeah? Swim suits?” he asked, unable to keep the hint of irritation out of his voice since he hated—absolutely loathed—that she modeled swimwear, and normally skimpy swimwear, at that.

 

“No,” she drawled slowly, fiddling with the thin straw in her iced tea.

 

“Then what?”

 

It seemed to Gavin that Jillian was hesitating a little too much for his comfort. “Jilli?” he prompted again when she still didn't answer.

 

“Playboy,” she finally admitted, careful to keep from looking him in the eye. She seemed calm enough, and yet he didn't miss the way her shoulders straightened just a little; the way her chin lifted a notch as the barest hint of a flush entered her cheeks.

 

“P-P-Playboy?” he sputtered, unable to mask the incredulity in his voice. “As in, the magazine, Playboy?”

 

She nodded.

 

“You're not going to do it, are you?”

 

“Well . . . it's not much different from posing for Oliveri,” she said slowly.

 

“The hell it's not!” he snarled, realizing a moment too late that he hadn't kept his voice down at all. People at the surrounding tables were eyeing them, and Jillian glanced around with a nervous sort of smile as Gavin heaved a sigh, dragging his hand over his face in sheer exasperation.

 

“I told Dan I'd think about it,” she said, leaning forward and murmuring her words, likely in an effort to remind him that he needed to do the same.

 

“You can't—I mean, you shouldn't—Damn it!” Gavin growled.

 

“I value your opinion, Gavin,” she said quietly.

 

He grimaced, opening his mouth then snapping it closed a few times. The last time she'd said something like that, he'd told her that she should do what she was comfortable doing, and it had backfired on him. As much as he hated the idea of coming off sounding like he was trying to tell her what to do, he wasn't entirely sure she'd decide against posing nude otherwise. Jillian had been brought up in a home where being naked was a natural thing; where the physical body could and should be viewed as a work of art, in and of itself. As much as he hated to swallow his pride, he just couldn't trust that she'd come to the conclusion that she needed to keep her clothes on, for God's sake . . .

 

“I don't think . . . you should do it . . .” he forced himself to admit.

 

“You don't want me to?”

 

He shrugged. “I . . .” he sighed, flinched, then shook his head slowly. “N-no, Jilli, I don't.”

 

“Okay,” she agreed.

 

“I mean, your father would flip,” he went on, furiously fighting down the color that was rapidly rising in his cheeks.

 

“Daddy wouldn't,” she said with a little giggle. “He paints Mama nude all the time.”

 

“Yeah, and you're his daughter, not his mate,” Gavin grumbled.

 

“Daddy isn't like that,” she maintained.

 

“The hell he's not! Besides that, if you try to tell me that you honestly think that men buy Playboy for the aesthetic beauty of the models, then you're sadly mistaken. I—”

 

“You, what, Gavvie?” she teased.

 

He shot her a dark glance. “No!”

 

“Then why don't you tell me why men do buy that magazine?”

 

“They buy it to look at while they . . . they . . . while they . . .” Shaking his head furiously as Jillian dissolved in gales of laughter, Gavin couldn't help the little growl of frustration that slipped from him as he jerked the cloth napkin off his lap and tossed it down on the table. “Anyway, I don't feel like running all over New York City to buy out the magazines again while—”

 

Jillian sat back, eyebrows disappearing under the fringe of her bangs in an entirely amused sort of way. “You did?”

 

Snapping his mouth closed a moment too late, Gavin made a face as the waitress slipped plates of salad greens on to the table. He'd never told her that he'd done that, had he? Jillian hadn't known that Gavin had set out at midnight in order to buy every copy of Oliveri magazine off the newsstands before anyone else could get one. Cain had done the same where he was after finding out that he couldn't pay to stop the issue from being printed, and while it hadn't actually stopped the publication, between Gavin, Cain, Bas, and Gunnar, they had managed to buy out about five thousand copies of the damn thing . . . “What do you think?” he mumbled.

 

“I'm not ashamed of my body,” she told him.

 

“I know. You, uh . . . you shouldn't be.”

 

“You really don't want me to do it?”

 

He couldn't meet her gaze. Hearing the wealth of hope rising in her voice was hard enough to reconcile. The last thing he needed to do was see the emotion lighting her eyes. Still, if it kept her from posing for the magazine in question . . . “No,” he forced himself to say. “No, I don't.”

 

It seemed to Gavin that her answer was long in coming. As though she really had to think about it, she poked at her salad as she seemed to consider his words. “All right,” she agreed at last. “I won't do it.”

 

Letting out a deep breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, Gavin relaxed just a little. “Good,” he replied with a tiny smile, satisfied that she wasn't going to do anything that she'd regret later—or that he might. “Good . . .”

 

She cast him a bright smile just before she launched into what amounted to a list of things that she ticked off on her fingers, one by one. “Well, let's see . . . You opened the truck door for me . . . You held my chair while I sat down . . . You helped me decide what I wanted to order . . . You've even made nice table conversation, Gavvie . . . I'd say you're just about ready.”

 

“Ready?” he echoed, arching an eyebrow as he leveled a suspicious look at her. “Ready for what?”

 

Her laughter was soft, as gentle as a summertime rain shower. “To try getting a date again,” she said in a tone that implied that he ought to have known as much.

 

He choked on a sip of water and quickly dabbed his mouth with the napkin as he coughed and sputtered. “Jillian—” he began in a warning tone.

 

She waved a hand in jaunty dismissal. “Oh, Gavvie! What'll you ever do without me?”

 

Eyes narrowing as he dropped the napkin onto the table, he slowly shook his head. “Why would I be without you?”

 

Her smile dimmed, faltered, and he couldn't shake the nagging idea that she was hiding something from him, after all. “Well . . .” she shrugged, her smile brightening though her eyes didn't shine the way they normally did. “I can't be with you all the time, now can I?”

 

Silence fell between them, as thick and solid as a brick wall. Jillian toyed with the butterfly charm on the gold chain that hung around her neck, and Gavin . . . He wasn't sure what to say or do. Unused to such mercurial changes in her mood, he could only sit, could only stare helplessly. He felt like he was twenty years old all over again; the same feeling that he'd gotten back then, when he'd first returned after their two and a half year separation . . . when he'd first come to realize that Jillian would always be just a little out of his reach.

 

Swallowing hard, fighting back the sudden swell of panic that swept through him, Gavin stifled a sigh. `She's Jilli . . . she'll always be around,' he told himself.

 

Too bad his thoughts lacked any real sense of conviction. Too bad he could feel it in his heart: in those moments, in that silence . . . Jillian had just slipped a little further out of his grasp.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Plugging in the decoding device, he glanced down the hallway of the nondescript apartment building. It only took a few seconds for the gadget to do its job, and with a soft beep, the LCD display flashed green. The knob gave with a click and a whisper as the door swung open. Pulling the jack from the decoding device, he wound the cord around his hand and stowed it away in his pocket before stepping inside.

 

The apartment was neat and tidy; almost disturbingly so. Even the Glaxter video game system controllers were neatly arranged on the shelf beside the unit. Two old movie posters—one for Star Wars: A New Hope and the other for Return of the Jedi—hung on the wall over the sofa in thick frames with floodlights that were currently running on a lowered setting trained on the matte glass. Shaking his head as he leaned down to swirl the clear glass marbles in the shallow stone dish in the center of the coffee table, he scanned the room for some sort of clue.

 

`Holy hell, this guy really is hopelessly boring,' he thought with a grimace as he ran his gloved finger along the spine of the books lining the shelf—all painstakingly alphabetized by author's last name, of course. `Complete Spreadsheets . . . Expanding SHTML . . . Star Wars: The Making of the Myth . . . For the love of Christ . . . what the hell's he doing with a supermodel?'

 

Stepping over to the half-closed door, he pushed it open and peered into the room. It was obviously the man's study. The state of the art computer stood silent and still, and he narrowed his gaze when he noticed the assorted picture frames lining the mantle over the faux fireplace. Photos of Gavin Jamison and Jillian Zelig . . . various snapshots taken over the years . . . Obviously, they'd known one another for a long while. The expensive frames didn't go unnoticed, either, and he narrowed his eyes as he considered that. `She must have bought those,' he mused. `Men don't care about picture frames—not even dead damn boring ones . . .'

 

Another picture caught his attention, and he reached behind the carefully arranged tableau to retrieve it. It was the only picture that wasn't of Gavin and Jillian. No, this one was much more interesting, and he slowly broke into a lazy grin. `I see . . . that makes sense . . . perfect sense . . .'

 

He stared at the image for another long moment before stuffing the picture, frame and all, into the pocket of his black leather jacket . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

It took a minute for Jillian to make sense out of the sound that roused her from a peaceful slumber. Whimpering slightly as she buried her face deeper against Gavin's chest, she squeezed her eyes closed and tried to block out the sound.

 

Gavin grunted and jerked awake, his hand flailing around almost wildly as he groped around for the offending apparatus. “`Lo?” he said, smashing the button that connected the phone call.

 

Jillian sat up, rubbing her eyes and struggled to clear her sleep-clouded mind. Wincing as she glanced at the clock, she heaved an inward sigh: one-thirty in the morning. She was about to lie back down when Gavin's words stopped her.

 

“What? Oh, uh, okay . . . yeah . . . Give me five minutes, and I'll be right there.”

 

Rolling out of bed, Gavin tossed the cell phone down on the coverlet as he dragged a pair of jeans out of the dresser drawer.

 

“What's going on?” she asked, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

 

Gavin shot her an apologetic glance and then broke into a wide grin. “Sherry's in labor,” he told her. “Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll run over there, take them to the hospital, and bring the girls back here.”

 

“I could come with you,” Jillian ventured.

 

Gavin shook his head. “There's probably not enough room in the truck,” he told her. “It won't take long.”

 

“Okay,” she said though she scampered out of bed as Gavin headed for the door. Following him through the house, she turned on the lamp beside the sofa as he smashed his feet into his shoes. “I'll get things ready for the girls,” she told him.

 

He shot her a sheepish grin and hurried out the door.

 

Laughing softly to herself, Jillian ran over to the closet and pulled out a stack of thick fleece blankets. Though she doubted that the girls would be interested in sleeping, she figured that if she made it seem like a slumber party, maybe they'd be less inclined to worry about their mother. It didn't take long for her to scoot all the furniture to one side of the room and even less time to spread all the blankets on the floor. After retrieving all the pillows off Gavin's bed and grabbing the ones in the guest rooms, too, Jillian ran back down to the living room and giggled at the overall effect before hurrying off to the kitchen to make some popcorn and pile a few juice boxes onto a tray.

 

She was just scanning the satellite channels for cartoons when Gavin opened the door and strode into the house with Karis in his arms, sobbing against his chest and a rather befuddled-looking Minnie trailing along behind him. Casting Jillian a panicked sort of glance, he tried to set the girl on her feet. She hung on tight. Standing up straight, he patted her back rather clumsily and stifled a sigh.

 

Jillian bit her lip and grimaced, knowing that Gavin was probably close to losing his composure, too. He'd just never been good with crying girls, she supposed. Stepping over to rub her back, Jillian cast Gavin a worried look. “It's okay, sweetie . . . your mommy's going to be just fine,” she crooned.

 

That only made Karis cry harder.

 

Gavin shot Jillian a helpless little wince. “Hey,” he said just loud enough for Karis to hear him. “You . . . you want to go check on the horses with me?”

 

Karis stopped wailing though tears continued to course down her cheeks, and she sniffled, her bottom lip trembling precariously. “H-hors-sies?” she repeated between hiccups.

 

Gavin nodded. “Sure . . . I always check them at this time of night.”

 

Turning away before the girls could see Jillian's smile at Gavin's lie, she knelt down when Minnie tugged her hand. “Can I see the horsies, too?” she asked.

 

“I'm sure you can,” Jillian answered, tweaking the end of the girl's pert little nose.

 

“Yeah, and tomorrow, I'll take you both for a short ride,” he promised. “Come on.”

 

Moonlight streamed down, illuminating the crisp Montana night. Minnie let go of Gavin's hand to speed up in her haste to reach the horses. Gavin glanced over his shoulder and shot Jillian an amused little grin that she returned. The promise of seeing the horses seemed to have done the trick . . .

 

Karis sighed, snuggling against Gavin's shoulder as Minnie ran over to slip her hand into his. Jillian followed along behind. “How's Sherry?” she asked quietly as Gavin set Karis down inside the main stable.

 

“She looked pretty uncomfortable, but she said it was fine.”

 

“They'll call when there's word?”

 

Gavin nodded. “Cody said he would, yes,” he replied without taking his eyes off the girls. They were running down the aisle between the rows of stalls and peering in at the horses. The creatures did little more than glance at them, and the girls giggled softly as they inspected the livestock. “Amazing how quickly she recovered when I asked if she wanted to see the horses,” he commented with a grin.

 

“Well, of course,” Jillian teased. “Then again, you've always had a way with women, haven't you?”

 

He blushed. “You mean ones under five?”

 

She laughed. “Something like that.”

 

His blush darkened, but his smile widened, and he looked entirely pleased with the idea that he'd managed to distract Karis from her obvious upset.

 

“She misses her mommy?”

 

Gavin grinned. “Actually . . . she's more afraid that she's not going to be the baby anymore,” he said.

 

“She's such a cutie,” Jillian said with a sigh as she watched the girls. Karis giggled at one of the horses—a great gray mare everyone called Apple Jack.

 

Gavin let them visit the horses for another few minutes before clearing his throat to get their attention. “Come on, girls . . . let's leave the horses alone for awhile, okay?”

 

They didn't look like they wanted to do any such thing, but they finally wandered back over to Gavin and Jillian. Karis dragged her fuzzy pink slippered feet as she slowly moved toward them. “I can ride in the morning?” she asked hesitantly.

 

Gavin nodded. “Yes, you can,” he told her, holding out his hands n a blatant invitation to pick her up.

 

Karis glanced back at the horses then held up her hands to Gavin. “Oka-a-ay,” she drawled.

 

Gavin chuckled as he scooped her up. “You know, I could've sworn I saw that Jillian made a nice little bed for you in the living room. Want to go watch cartoons?”

 

“I like cartoons!” Minnie exclaimed as she stuck her hand into Jillian's.

 

“Good,” Gavin said as he opened the stable door and waited for Jillian and Minnie to step outside before shutting off the light.

 

The girl chattered on about her favorite cartoons all the way back to the house, and with a happy little shriek, she ran over to the nest of blankets and flopped down on the pillows.

 

“You stripped all the beds of pillows, did you?” Gavin asked as he set Karis down. She didn't run over to the blankets, though, wrapping her arms around Gavin's leg instead and hanging on tight.

 

“Yes, I did,” Jillian admitted.

 

Gavin chuckled as he kicked off his shoes, carefully unwinding Karis' hand and leading her over to the blankets while Jillian headed back to the kitchen to retrieve the tray of popcorn and juice. It seemed that the girl had claimed Gavin as her own, and it was a good thing that Jillian didn't mind sharing too much. Something about him had always possessed the power to soothe her, hadn't it? It stood to reason that Karis would sense it, too. Gavin was safety, security, lending Jillian an unwavering belief that despite things that changed around her, some thing would forever remain the same.

 

Laughing softly, she stopped short, leaning in the archway that led into the living room. Gavin lay in the midst of the blankets with a smile on his face and his hands behind his neck and the two girls climbing all over him. Karis was sprawled across his chest with her little rump up in the air and her hand stuffed into her mouth while Minnie was content to lie beside him, cradled in the crook of his arm with her head on his shoulder. He chuckled softly as Karis tried to shove her sister away. Minnie whined and jerked away from her sister's persistent pushing but refused to relinquish her spot beside Gavin.

 

“Be nice,” Gavin murmured, pulling a hand from behind his head to stroke Karis' downy hair. “Look . . . the cat's chasing the dog,” he pointed out, waving his hand in the general direction of the television.

 

Karis sighed and crawled onto Gavin's chest, nestling her head under his chin. Jillian couldn't help the tenderness in her expression as she hesitated a moment longer. She hated to interrupt the moment, she supposed. Seeing Gavin being so unguarded with his gentle smile illuminating his gaze in the dimly lit room . . . it touched her deep down even as a strange sort of ache swelled inside her.

 

A sudden vision of Gavin doing the same thing with his own children—children that all looked exactly like their father—assailed her, and her smile faltered. It was the sort of image that had the power to bring tears to her eyes as her smile trembled precariously.

 

Cruel enough to see such a thing in the recesses of her dreams. Crueler still was to see the same images and to know deep down that those children she saw—those dark-haired, aqua-eyed children . . .

 

They'd never be hers.

 

 

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A/N:

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Reviewers

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OROsan0677 via email:

I want to thank you, once again, for keeping my sister and her baby in your thoughts and prayers. Yesterday her doctor decided to do a cesarean section, for her blood pressure was way too high. The baby came out as a 4lb 5oz and 17 inches long. Mother and baby are doing great now; my sister's blood pressure dropped right after she had him; and as soon as he gains up to five pounds and has the ability to sucking reflex he can come home. So, once again, I thank you for all your prayers and may God bless you!

 

I just wanted to post this for anyone who did take a moment to think about your sister. I'm glad, and I hope the baby comes home soon! (Again, no reviews on this, please. Reviews that only deal with this will be deleted. Thank you!)

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MMorg

artemiswaterdragon ------ OROsan0677 ------ Acheronlover ------ nish04 ------ vvkimbo07 ------ Usagiseren05 ------ Usagiseren05

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Forum Reviews

tragic-hellion ------ OROsan0677 ------ My Own Self ------ cutechick18 ------ Piett ------- Firedemon86

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Final Thought fromJillian:

Wow, a new baby!

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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~