InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Realities ( Chapter 19 )

~~Chapter 19~~

~Realities~

 

 

 

“These are amazing, Jillian,” Sherry said for the fifth time in as many minutes as she slowly flipped through the proof prints.

 

Jillian glanced up from the sleeping bundle in her arms. “No, those are just pictures. She is amazing,” Jillian argued. Gently stroking the infant's tiny fist with the pad of her thumb, Jillian couldn't help the little sigh that escaped her.

 

As if she knew that she was being scrutinized, the newest addition to the Mitchell family, Raina Melissa yawned wide and pursed her little lips. So named because of the tremendous showers that were blanketing the area when Sherry had found out that she was pregnant, the infant was quiet, content to be held.

 

Gavin and Cody had taken the girls down to the hospital cafeteria for lunch, but Jillian had opted to stay and visit with Sherry, instead. Sinking into the chair beside the bed without jostling the baby, she laughed softly, completely enamored of the child in her arms. “She's beautiful,” Jillian said again.

 

“Thanks,” Sherry replied with a happy little smile. She looked tired, certainly, but she looked completely content, too. “Three girls . . . Cody swears that something must be broken.”

 

Jillian giggled since she just couldn't feature shy Cody saying any such thing. Still, she found it sweet that the young mechanic was such a devoted family man. “I don't think anything's broken,” Jillian replied.

 

“This picture is so good,” Sherry said, holding the picture so that Jillian could see the one she was referring to. The girls were sitting in the grass surrounded by tiny white butterflies. Karis held a lily in her hand while Minnie was sitting on her knees sticking the end of a bomb pop into her sister's mouth. Jillian laughed. It was a cute image; one of her favorites.

 

“I can't believe you got some pictures of Karis smiling,” Sherry went on. “She hates having her picture taken. You've really got a knack for this.”

 

Blushing under the praise, Jillian shook her head and shrugged. “I enjoy it,” she allowed. “I'd love to take pictures of the baby, too.”

 

“Would you?” Sherry asked. “These are just fantastic!”

 

“I like the one of you and Cody,” Jillian said.

 

Sherry's smile turned a little shy. “Me, too,” she confessed.

 

“Just write down the numbers off the back of the proof and what sizes of prints you'd like, and I'll do them up for you.”

 

“Mama! Mama! I brung you bawoon,” Karis said as she ran into the room and straight to her mother. Cody laughed and picked her up, settling her on the bed beside Sherry.

 

“Oh, that's pretty,” Sherry remarked, taking the string of the bright pink balloon and hooking it around her fingers. “Are you sure you don't want to keep it, sweetie?”

 

“I bought it for you,” Karis insisted, sticking her bottom lip out in a marked pout. “I used my pennies.”

 

“Aww, you used your pennies to buy me a balloon?”

 

Karis nodded slowly.

 

“I gave her a few more pennies,” Cody mumbled. Sherry smiled at him, and he blushed.

 

“I got to ride horsies this morning,” Minnie said, pulling her hand away from Gavin and running over to her mother's side.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Minnie giggled. Gavin stopped beside Jillian, leaning to the side so that he could get a better look at the baby's face. “Hey.”

 

Jillian shot him a smile before turning her attention back to the infant in her arms again. “Hi.”

 

“Jilli can have the baby,” Karis decided with a little nod.

 

Sherry laughed. “I'm sure that Jillian will have her own babies eventually.”

 

Karis frowned. “But I don't want the baby,” she complained. “I'm the baby!”

 

“Yep, you're the baby,” Cody agreed, scooping his daughter up and soundly kissing her cheek. “The big baby.”

 

“You want to hold her?” Jillian asked.

 

Gavin blinked then grimaced slightly. “I don't—”

 

“Just make sure you support her head,” Jillian instructed, carefully settling the baby in Gavin's arms. He opened his mouth to protest but smiled instead when Raina yawned wide and uttered a contented little sigh.

 

“She's . . . tiny,” he murmured, carefully cradling her head in the crook of his elbow as he smiled a little bashfully.

 

“She is,” Jillian agreed. “She's pretty.”

 

“Very.”

 

A sense of absolute awe filtered over his face as he gazed at the sleeping baby in his arms, and Jillian smiled, brushing aside the dull ache that just never seemed to go away. It didn't matter, did it? Nothing she could say or do would change his feelings on the matter, and it was high time she faced that fact.

 

No one seemed to notice that she'd fallen silent. Content to sit back and listen as Sherry, Cody, and Gavin talked, she made sure that she had a bright smile on her face whenever anyone happened to glance at her. If they noticed the slight tightness around her eyes or the way her lips trembled the tiniest bit, they didn't remark on it, and maybe that was for the best, too.

 

`Maybe I should have been an actress,' she thought with a wry little smile. It seemed to her that everything she had been doing for the last few months—maybe for the last few years or even longer came down to this. Maybe all she'd really been doing was playing a part in some farce of a satirical comedy. All she was doing now was waiting for the final curtain to drop . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“We still don't have anything concrete, but Gunnar thinks we might be close.”

 

“Close? How close?”

 

Bas Zelig sighed. “We think he may have worked for the contractor Jilli hired to renovate her condo.”

 

“Really?”

 

Bas grunted. “We think so. Apparently, the contractor said that one of her guys had a cousin who was in town during that time, and she gave him a part time job as a favor or some such. The woman's not being very cooperative at the moment, though.”

 

“Afraid of being sued?” Gavin mused, running a hand through his hair.

 

“Something like that. She told Gunnar that if he wanted answers, he'd have to get a court injunction to get them, but that doesn't really seem right, either. I mean, if she was just doing a favor for her employee . . .”

 

“Right,” Gavin added. “Then she wouldn't really have anything to gain by trying to cover up for him.”

 

“Yep . . .” Bas let out a deep breath. Gavin could hear his claws drumming on the desk. “Myrna suggested that maybe the guy the contractor's talking about was in the country illegally or something . . . nothing else really makes any sense as to why she won't spill her guts about it, but if that's the case . . .”

 

“I don't know about that, Bas,” Gavin replied, shaking his head slowly. “I mean, if this guy were an illegal alien, then how did he get the money to chase Jillian down to Mexico?”

 

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too.”

 

“Gotta be something more to it, then, unless it's just not the guy you're looking for.”

 

“This guy . . . I swear to God I'll kill him when I get my hands on him,” Bas grouched.

 

Gavin nodded. “Unless he's human.”

 

Bas grunted. “Thanks for reminding me, Gav.” He sighed. “You know, it'd be one thing if the bastard was youkai or hanyou, but all indications are that he isn't. If he were, Gunnar would have smelled him in Jillian's condo, and he didn't. All he smelled were humans. It'd be simple, otherwise, but you know how the human authorities are . . .”

 

Stifling a sigh since Gavin knew exactly what Bas meant, he slowly shook his head and leaned back in his chair, glancing up the stairs and listening for any sounds indicating that Jillian might still be awake. “I got it. Just keep me informed.”

 

“Not a problem,” Bas said. “How're things going there?”

 

“Depends on what you're asking about.”

 

“Sounds cryptic.”

 

Waving off Bas' concern with a tired sigh, Gavin slowly shook his head. “Nothing.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yup. Let me know what's going on, will you?”

 

“Sure. Take care of my baby sister.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Closing the phone with a little snap, Gavin dropped it onto the sofa beside him. `Thank God,' he thought with a heavy sigh. Hopefully they'd be able to nab the guy fast. He loved being back on the ranch, surely, but he hated keeping anything from Jillian.

 

Standing up, he shut off the lights and checked the doors to make sure they were locked before heading for the stairs. Jillian had gone to bed early—not entirely surprising since she tended to be a morning person. Gavin had been preoccupied checking his email and replying to the contractor he'd asked to come out to get an estimate for the roof on the main stable, and by the time he'd finished up, Bas had called . . .

 

She was curled up in the middle of the bed with a solitary white sheet pulled up over her body. Hair fanning out around her like silken ripples dancing over the water, she seemed so small in the midst of the silvery strands. Wearing the threadbare University of Montana shirt that she insisted on using for a nightshirt, she seemed somehow diminished in the expanse of the bed where she lay. Eyelashes fanned over her dusty rose cheeks, her lips were slightly parted in the bluish shadows of the night. Gavin sat on the edge of the bed, pushed her hair out of her face with the gentlest of touches as a wan smile broke over his features.

 

`God, she's . . . gorgeous . . .'

 

He winced, his hand stilling in mid-stroke. That was the trouble, wasn't it? The entire world knew that Jillian was gorgeous, and while he didn't have a problem with her fame, he knew in his heart that she was just too damn far away for a guy like him to reach.

 

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, letting his hand drop away from her. He'd thought that maybe she could be his, once upon a time. He'd held onto that belief for such a long time, hadn't he? The years fell away—melted like snow in the springtime, and the memories . . . well, they were just too hard to ignore . . .

 

Stepping off the escalator onto the ground level of the airport, Gavin hitched his carry-on bag over his shoulder and scanned the lobby for the Zeligs. Spotting Cain was simple enough. The youkai stood head and shoulders above most men, and it struck Gavin that in the length of time he'd known him, Cain really hadn't changed all that much. Gin stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the milling crowd. Gavin smiled absently, gazing past them all in search of the one face he desperately wanted to see . . .

 

She wasn't there. Jillian wasn't there. Tamping down the painful surge of disappointment, Gavin negotiated the masses, slowly making his way over to Gin and Cain. “Hi,” he said, hoping his feelings weren't showing in his expression too much.

 

Gin gasped, eyes widening as she glanced up at Gavin. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “You . . . grew!”

 

He grimaced as Cain chuckled softly. “Uh, yeah,” Gavin agreed. “Over a foot and a half since I visited the last time.”

 

“He's almost as tall as you, Cain,” Gin giggled, reaching up to touch Gavin's cheek.

 

“Stop that, Gin. You're embarrassing him,” Cain remarked though his smile was anything but sympathetic, “and it has been over two years since we've seen him . . .”

 

“Where's Jilli?” Gavin asked, trying his hardest to sound nonchalant.

 

He didn't miss the strained little look that passed between the Zeligs. “I'm sorry, Gavin . . . Jilli had a pep rally she couldn't miss today,” Gin said, casting Cain another nervous sort of glance. Gavin didn't really understand it, but the upset that Jillian would miss his arrival must have registered on his face because Gin grimaced and quickly pulled him into a warm hug: the kind that never failed to remind Gavin of his mother. “She'll be in later. She'll probably rush right home, actually. She's been looking forward to your arrival ever since the night you called and told her you were coming . . .”

 

“Y-yeah?” he stammered, nearly tripping over his feet as he quickly turned to shake Cain's hand. He'd grown so fast, he supposed, he hadn't really had time to become acquainted with his height and the other changes that had come with it, like ungodly large feet . . .

 

“Whoa, Gavin . . . you all right?” Cain asked, quickly steadying Gavin with a hand on his shoulder.

 

Gavin blushed. “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled.

 

“My balance isn't the greatest after a commercial flight, myself,” Cain went on though Gavin didn't doubt for a moment that Cain knew very well that his clumsiness had nothing at all to do with the flight, in general.

 

“Let's go,” Gin said brightly. “We'll stop for lunch . . . you didn't eat on the plane, did you?”

 

“N-n-no,” Gavin replied, trying not to look too upset that Jillian hadn't thought enough to come with her parents. He'd been looking forward to seeing her again. It hadn't occurred to him that she might not feel the same way . . .

 

And she hadn't come right home from school, either. Gavin spent the afternoon on the phone with the admissions office of the University of Maine to set up a time for his testing. They wanted him to take a placement test since he was applying for transfer and since he had yet to establish his full time residence in Maine. Giving half-hearted answers and trying to tell himself that it really wasn't too late, Gavin had floundered through the phone calls and made arrangements to drop off his transcripts . . . and still Jillian didn't come home.

 

“You know, maybe she went to the pond,” Gin suggested as she set dishes on the table. “She goes there sometimes after school . . . You know where it is.”

 

Gavin nodded. “Yeah . . .”

 

Grabbing his coat, he headed for the door only to be intercepted by the tai-youkai. “A moment, Gavin?”

 

“Uh, okay . . .”

 

He followed Cain into the office and sat, tamping down the urge to fidget as he restlessly waited.

 

“Listen, Gavin, I'm sure Jillian will be happy that you've come back,” Cain began, a thoughtful scowl marring his brow as he slouched back against the floor to ceiling windows that lined the end of the study. “But I wanted to remind you that she's only fifteen. You know, in case you've forgotten.”

 

“I-I-I didn't forget,” Gavin stammered.

 

Cain nodded. “Good, because you're a grown man, but she's still just a little girl—my little girl—and while she might still believe that you're meant to be together, she's far too young to make that sort of decision. Don't you agree?”

 

“Y-yes, sir.”

 

Crossing his arms over his chest and leveling a look that bespoke a very painful and instantaneous death, Cain nodded again. “See that you remember it. She thinks the world of you . . . and so do I. Don't you dare disappoint me, because if you do . . .”

 

Gavin flinched visibly. Cain didn't have to finish that threat. Gavin knew exactly what the tai-youkai was telling him. No, maybe it wasn't the tai-youkai. Maybe at that time and in that place, he was speaking as nothing more than Jillian's father, and maybe that threat held far more significance . . . `How was it that one simple look from Cain Zelig can make me feel like a pup?' he wondered. “I understand.”

 

“Go-o-o-od . . . now go find my daughter. It's getting late.”

 

Swallowing hard and offering a curt nod, Gavin stumbled to his feet and hurried out of the study without bothering to pull his coat on until he was outside the mansion and striding toward the forest. The overcast November day was fading as he moved through the trees, along the path he knew as well as he knew the back of his own hand. He could sense Jillian's presence coming closer with every step he took, though he might have been imagining that. It was difficult to say. Quickening his pace as a sudden, vicious need to see her surged through him, Gavin was almost running as he broke through the last of the trees and into the clearing beside the little pond where Jillian loved to swim.

 

She wasn't swimming, and in hindsight, that was probably a really good thing. Sitting atop a huge boulder where she sunned herself in the summertime, Jillian sat with her feet dangling in what had to be frigid water, her back straight and proud, the jaunty ponytail in her hair swinging in the harsh wind. She seemed a little lost in the copious folds of the black wool letterman's jacket she wore. Letters for cheerleading and for track and field were sewed to the sleeves. The hat was unzipped, lying flat against her back. Embroidered into the bright red fabric was the name that made him smile: Jilli.

 

She was the girl he knew, wasn't she? The two and a half years of their separation hadn't changed that at all . . . or had it? Narrowing his gaze as he stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans, Gavin bit his lip and stared at her. She was a little taller, maybe . . . her hair was a little longer. Letting her chin drop, she seemed to be gazing at her hands, and he didn't miss the gentle arch of her neck; the delicate sense of an almost regal air in her movements. She'd developed a certain grace in his absence; a quiet calm that drew him. “Jilli . . .” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

 

She stiffened, stilled, her body tensing at the sound of his voice though she didn't turn to look at him.

 

Forcing himself to approach her, he climbed onto the boulder beside her and sat down, unable to comprehend the strange distance in her reactions. “Your mom said you were probably out here.”

 

She swallowed hard, keeping her gaze trained on the water. “I'm a cheerleader,” she said quietly. “I couldn't miss the pep rally today.”

 

“I-I know,” he blurted. “I thought . . .” He sighed and shook his head. “It doesn't matter what I thought.”

 

“How long will you be here?” she asked suddenly, almost desperately, as though she wanted the reassurance that he wasn't going to take off on her again.

 

`Or maybe,' he thought, frowning at the water rippling away from her toes. `Maybe she needs that . . .'

 

“Well, that's the thing,” he admitted. “I might be here awhile.”

 

“O-oh?”

 

He nodded. “I'm transferring to the University of Maine. It's too late to get housing on campus, though, so your father said I could stay here for the semester and commute.”

 

“Transferring?” she repeated slowly. “Here?”

 

Willing himself not to blush, he nodded again, trying not to be unaccountably pleased that his legs extended a good bit further than Jillian's did. He had to keep them stretched out to keep them out of the water. “Uh . . . yeah.”

 

“. . . For . . . me?”

 

“W—I—you—” he stammered.

 

“Gavvie?” she interrupted, finally daring to meet his gaze. His breath caught for a dizzying moment as he stared at her in mute fascination. The signs had been there all along. Somewhere in his mind he'd known she was going to be a beautiful woman one day. Seeing the changes, though, were hard to process. The delicate curves of her face . . . the high cheekbones . . . the blood red lips—she'd been chewing on them, hadn't she? Nervously, anxiously . . . and that realization lent him a stuttering sense of hope . . . “Are you transferring here for me?” she asked quietly.

 

His cheeks exploded in a violent wash of crimson color as he quickly looked away, unable to reconcile the girl before him with the gangly youth he'd said goodbye to in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Her face had lost the rounded softness of childhood. The long, thin limbs had gained a womanly fullness, and he cleared his throat as he tried to form coherent words. “The University of Maine has a really good school of finance,” he argued weakly as the already dark color deepened just a little more.

 

For reasons he didn't want to think about, the stark changes in her appearance set off a dull ache that pulsed with the beat of his heart. He'd come so far, or so he'd thought. No longer the scrawny youth he'd been two and a half years ago, he'd hoped that maybe this time . . . What he hadn't expected was that she would have flitted out of his grasp yet again . . .

 

“You did, didn't you?” she whispered, her tone full of incredulity, and he could tell that she was smiling. “You missed me . . .?”

 

He scowled, gaze shifting between her suddenly diminutive hand to his and back again. “Of course I missed you, Jilli. You're my best friend . . .”

 

She digested that in silence, flicking her feet back and forth in the frigid waters below. “Gavvie?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I think I'd rather believe that you're transferring for me.”

 

He sighed then grinned, pushing himself to his feet and offering her a hand of assistance. “If that's what you want,” he told her, his gaze skittering away before she could discern the absolute truth. He had come back for her . . .

 

Cain's words came back to him, and Gavin's grin faltered. “Good, because you're a grown man, but she's still just a little girl—my little girl—and while she might still believe that you're meant to be together, she's far too young to make that sort of decision . . .”

 

She slipped her hand into his and let him pull her to her feet, a bright smile lighting on her face at last. Gavin blinked and stared, holding onto her hand without a word. “Welcome home, Gavvie,” she said. “I really, really, really missed you.”

 

“I . . . well, I . . .” He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly bone-dry in the wake of her obvious happiness. “I, uh . . . missed you, too . . .”

 

Blinking away the lingering remnants of the memory, Gavin sighed as his gaze fell on Jillian's sleeping form once more. He'd thought—he'd really believed—that it was just a matter of time . . . it had been a beautiful dream, even if it didn't last that long.

 

Constantly reminded of his inadequacies, the dream was too hard to hold. Meeting Jillian's friends was interesting enough. The beautiful clique—the one he'd never actually fit into when he was in school—they seemed to regard Gavin as viable, likely because he was so much older than they were, or maybe it was because he was with Jillian. He wasn't overly keen on the idea of spending Friday nights running around with her friends, but if that was what she wanted to do then he did it . . .

 

Sometimes, though, they'd follow Evan if he had a gig at one of the local digs. That wasn't as bad. Sitting at a table toward the back of a bar while the bouncers eyed Jillian and Madison, Gavin was always careful to only allow them non-alcoholic beverages, which was likely the reason that Cain never complained about Gavin escorting Jillian to those sorts of places. The bar owners didn't make a fuss over it since the legal drinking age had been lowered to eighteen years ago, especially since they were close to a university, Gavin supposed, and especially since neither Jillian nor Madison, for that matter, looked like true teenagers . . .

 

Staring at her in the filmy half-light, he slowly shook his head. She was the same girl, wasn't she? The girl he'd known and . . . and loved . . . for so long . . . and yet . . .

 

And yet he wasn't certain he could really dare to believe . . . If she hadn't disappeared nearly two years after he'd come back to Maine to finish school, absconding from his life completely; totally . . . maybe . . .

 

Why did she run away?

 

`Ask her if you have to know . . . maybe it wasn't at all what you thought.'

 

Or maybe he was fooling himself. Wasn't it better to know that she would never be satisfied in the boring life he'd have to offer her before he made the colossal mistake of taking her as his mate when she'd never be truly happy with him?

 

Grimacing, Gavin shook his head, stretching out on the bed beside her, careful not to disturb her. As though she sensed his movements, she scooted closer to him in her sleep. Rolling onto his side, he propped his temple on a raised fist. Tracing her cheek with his folded knuckles, he smiled wanly in the darkness. Her skin was so smooth, so soft, so delicate . . . It was the only time he felt free enough to touch her, and as cowardly as it was, he couldn't quite help himself, either. As he drank in every detail of her, he realized that the nights were kinder to him than days ever were.

 

Jillian sighed in her sleep, nestling closer to him, and he felt the first strands of his iron will unravel. Breathing in the clean, fresh scent of her, leaning in closer to bury his nose in her hair . . . Something in her scent always reassured him, and in the night . . . sometimes he almost believed her, too.

 

“Gavvie . . .” she mumbled softly, her voice more of a whisper than a word.

 

“Jilli, why?” he asked, unsure what he was asking but desperately needing an answer.

 

She sighed, slowly opening her eyes though she seemed to have trouble focusing on his face. “Why?” she repeated as her eyebrows drew together in a slight frown.

 

It was that frown that sealed his fate, he supposed. God, he hated to see her upset, and knowing that he was the cause of it . . . well, that had never set well with him, either. Her moods were a palpable thing to him—they always had been, hadn't they? So attuned to her that the slightest shift in her emotions had the power to hurt him in an almost physical way . . .

 

He sighed. “You're pushing me away . . . I can feel it . . . I . . . Jilli . . .”

 

She didn't reply right away. Eyes slipping closed as a gentle little smile surfaced on her face, she shook her head slightly. “You . . . don't . . . want . . . that?” she asked slowly, haltingly—carefully.

 

She wasn't asking if he wanted distance, and he knew it. What she was asking was so much deeper than that. “I . . . I . . .” He swallowed hard, unsure what he could possibly say that could overcome the gulf that was widening by the second. “I . . . don't know . . . I just . . . you can't . . . don't leave me again . . .”

 

She grimaced at the raw honesty in his voice. “Gavin . . .”

 

Staring at her in the moonlight with the clock on the nightstand ticking the seconds away, Gavin felt the hold on his resolve slipping away. The pleading in her gaze wrenched his heart, dug at his soul. She was asking for things that he didn't really want to comprehend. Pale blue eyes glittering in the dim light, she scanned his face for any sort of emotion she could find. He could smell the salt in her tears as her gaze glossed over. Nostrils quivering, lips trembling, she didn't look away as he ran his knuckles along the rise of her cheek once more. She closed her eyes, leaned into his touch as a single tear slipped down her cheek to dampen his fingers . . . to break his heart.

 

A strange emotion washed over him, the fiercest need to protect her; to dispel the things that hurt her. Reacting on a purely instinctive level that he didn't completely understand, he leaned down, brushed his lips over hers in a whisper of a kiss, in a breath of sensation before returning with a deeper pressure that she returned. Hands slipping around his neck, she held onto him as though her very life depended on it. The gentle crush of her lips against his, of her body against his . . . it was enough to wrench a low groan from him.

 

Caught up in the tangle of rioting sensation, he leaned down, supporting his weight on his forearms as the scent of her wrapped around him. Beautiful, magical, the kiss blossomed around him, driving away the lingering inhibitions that plagued him every hour of every day. In the night . . .

 

Sighing softly against his mouth, Jillian's lips fluttered like a butterfly unfurling its wings. Languorous touches, brushes of the sweetest dew opened around him: a morning flower. She rose against him, as vibrant as the swirling tide, and somewhere in the haze, he heard her whisper his name. The gentle entreaty was a palliative on his soul as indecision floated away. She was so perfect in his arms, her body molded perfectly against his. Everything he'd ever wanted, everything he'd ever dreamed . . . in those precious moments, he knew. She was the one—the only one—if only . . . if only . . .

 

Dragging his mouth away from hers, he gasped for air, his body trembling. Jillian's breathing rasped in his ears, echoed in his head, as his heart pounded against his ribs. Rolling onto his back, he pulled her into his arms. She giggled softly, nestling close to him; as close as she could possibly be. “My Gavvie,” she murmured, her voice as breathless as he was feeling.

 

“Go to sleep, Jilli,” he murmured, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms tighter around her.

 

“Okay . . .”

 

He could feel the tranquility in her youki as her body slowly relaxed. She was asleep within minutes, or so it seemed. So trusting, so innocent, she was content to be held, to be cuddled.

 

Gavin scowled at the ceiling as he tried to make sense of what had happened. She had the power to destroy the strongest of his resolve, didn't she? How could she do that? How on earth could she make him forget what he knew deep down in his heart?

 

The voice in his head—his youkai blood—laughed at him, called him a fool—ten times a fool. His body ached, throbbed . . . the pain unwavering as Jillian's slumber deepened. To hold her, to touch her, to kiss her . . . it was enough to drive him mad. Rubbing his hot, grainy eyes, he sighed, somehow knowing that sleep was a long way in coming.

 

There was no rest for the wicked, he knew, and maybe there really wasn't any respite for the damned, either . . .

 

 

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

A/N:

== == == == == == == == == ==

Reviewers

==========

MMorg

vvkimbo07 ------ OROsan0677 ------ kds1222 ------ Kyasumi ------ Lisa C

==========

Forum Reviews

Firedemon86 ------ Proforce ------ kamackie ------ ErinBerin ------ My Own Self ------ angelfire777 ------ OROsan0677 ------ cutechick18 ------ Piett ------ Chva the Mai-coh ------ tinywingedthing

==========

Final Thought fromJillian:

My Gavvie!

==========

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~