InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Fruition ❯ Strike One ( Chapter 7 )

The strangest sensation woke Charity, and in her sleep-hazy brain, it brought to mind a half-forgotten memory of her childhood, of spending the night with a school friend and being roused by her friend's new puppy as it waggled around and played in Charity's blanket . . .

The sound of whimpering registered to her as she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the infant girl as she rooted around instinctively, obviously looking for her breakfast.

She sat up with a giggle and picked up the baby for a quick snuggle as she started to swing her legs off the bed.  She didn't get far as Ben strode into the room with two bottles in one hand and the other infant in the crook of his arm.  "Morning," he said, still looking quite sleepy and adorably rumpled despite the smile on his face.  He handed her a bottle before slipping back onto the bed to feed Emmeline.  "I thought about waking you up, but you looked entirely too comfortable, so I didn't have the heart to do it . . . Did you sleep well?"

Tamping down a vivid blush inspired by his question, Charity concentrated on Nadia's face, not daring to meet Ben's gaze.  "I'm so sorry about that," she blurted quickly, praying that he couldn't see, just how embarrassed she was and knowing that he probably did, anyway.  "I didn't mean to fall asleep . . ."

He chuckled.  "You can stay over as often as you'd like, Charity," he said.  "I didn't mind at all, and the girls liked it, too, I think . . . They only woke up once for bottles."

"They did?" she blurted.  She hadn't woken up, not even slightly . . .

Ben waved a hand as he broke into a yawn, smashing the same hand over his mouth. "Yeah, but I woke up before them, so I managed to get their bottles before they got going."

She smiled as the self-conscience discomfort faded.  Remembering the look on his face last night when he'd touched her . . . A very distinct and very unsettling shiver ran up her spine at the memory: the sudden brightness in his gaze, the warmth of his fingertips as he'd ran them down her face . . . Maybe . . .

'Stop that, Charity!' she chided herself.  'I was tired, he was tired . . . Don't read more into it than that . . .'

'I don't know, Cherry . . .'

'No, and . . . and it's okay.  Ben's just . . . just a friend . . .'

'Just a friend, huh?'
She heaved an inward sigh.  'Y-Yeah . . .'

He yawned again, and she laughed despite her depressing thoughts.  She couldn't help it.  He looked so disgruntled afterward, like the yawn had happened simply to irritate him.  "You know, if you're still tired, I'd be happy to keep an eye on them while you get some more sleep."

He waved a hand as the yawn loosened its grip on him.  "I'll be fine after a shower," he promised, quickly wiping the tears from the yawn from his eyes.  "But if you’d watch them so I can take one, that would be great.  Just let me finish feeding her . . ."

Nadia finished her bottle, and Charity set it aside before lifting the baby and settling her against her shoulder.  She fussed a little, but settled in quickly enough.

"Do you have plans for the day?" Ben asked, patting Emmeline's back gently as he cuddled her close.

"Not really," she admitted.  "I mean, I usually don't do much of anything on Sundays except clean up my apartment, maybe do the laundry . . ."

He chuckled.  "I'd hate to keep you from your laundry," he teased, "but I could use some help in setting up their nursery."

"I . . . I could do that," she replied with a timid smile.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off short when Emmeline burped and spit up all over him.  "A-Ah," he gasped then chuckled again.  "Good thing I haven't had that shower yet," he said ruefully as he leaned to the side to grab some tissues out of a box on the nightstand.  He wiped Emmeline's face off carefully and laid her on the bed before making a face as he glanced down at his shirt.  "I'll, uh, I'll hurry," he murmured, heading for the bathroom.  "Em's usually good after she burps once."

Charity giggled as the door closed behind him.  Laying Nadia beside her sister in the middle of the bed, Charity rolled off of it and hurried out of the room to grab some clothes for the babies.  She made a face as her stomach growled at the scent of freshly brewed coffee that had drifted up the stairs.  When she had first moved to the States, she hadn't liked it at all, but it had grown on her, and, given the choice between coffee or tea these days, she'd take the coffee, hands down.

Eddie had already washed and put all of the clothes away that she had bought yesterday, and Charity picked out two cute little casual dresses, two pairs of teeny booties, and a couple teddy bear printed burp cloths.  The diaper bag, she knew, was already in Ben's room, and she hurried back.

It didn't take long to change and dress both girls, and Charity smiled at the adorable babies.  Both were staring up at her, their golden-brown eyes, wide and serious, sparkling in the sunlight that filtered through the windows.  Rosy cheeked and looking entirely too sweet, they drew a laugh from her as she scooped them up and moved toward the door, wondering vaguely just how long it would be before they were too big to be carried at the same time.  Right now, they were both so tiny that it had taken Charity a bit of time, searching the internet to find shops that carried clothes small enough to fit them, and even the preemie clothes that she did buy were a little on the large size.

By the time she hit the landing, the smell of coffee had mingled with the scent of bacon and sausage.  Charity's stomach rumbled out a protest as she descended the staircase.

Eddie glanced at her as she stepped into the kitchen, only to do a classic double-take.  "Morning, Miss Charity," she said, hiding her amusement as she ducked her chin, but not before Charity saw the smile.   The housekeeper wiped her hands on a towel that she then tossed onto the counter as she hurried around it to take one of the babies.  A strange sort of expression flickered to life on the woman's features, almost as though something made sense, even though Charity wasn't entirely sure what that would be.  Suddenly, Eddie laughed as she put Nadia in the portable crib near the table, and when she turned back toward Charity to take Emmeline, the absolutely knowing look in her eyes made Charity blush clear down to her toes.  "Stay over, did you?"

"Uh," Charity choked out as her blush darkened.  "B-B-Ben had some trouble with Nadia last night, so I-I-I came over . . ."

"In your nightshirt?"

She blinked and glanced down quickly as Eddie turned away to put Emmeline down with her sister.  Realizing a little too late that she was wearing her pajamas, she smothered a low groan.  Given that the oversized tee-shirt she used as a nightshirt hung lower than the hem of her shorts, she had to admit exactly how damning the entire situation looked.  "I-I-I have shorts on," she heard herself saying.

Eddie laughed again and waved a hand in blatant dismissal as she hurried around the counter once more.  "You're both adults," she remarked.  "What the two of you do is your own business . . . Can I get you some coffee?  Tea?  Juice?"

Still unable to shake the feeling that she'd just gotten caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, Charity stifled a sigh.  "Coffee would be wonderful," she said.  "I can get it myself . . ."

"Don't be silly," Eddie insisted as she opened a cupboard to retrieve a mug and the carafe.  "Now tell me, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Oh, uh, whatever you're cooking smells good," she replied as her discomfort at the teasing line of questions subsided, just a little.  "I mean, if it's no trouble . . ."

Eddie set the cup down and filled it up, along with the one that was already on the table—Ben's.  "No trouble at all!" she insisted with a nonchalant wave of her hand.  "Now let's hope that nasty hawk woman shows up," she said as she strode over to set the coffee pot down.  "Take her down a notch or two, I say!"

"Take who down a notch or two, you old harridan?" Ben drawled as he stepped into the kitchen.

Eddie snorted.  "That Myrna Loy," she grumbled.  "That's who."

Charity looked up from her cup of coffee as Ben paused to look in on the girls.  She choked on the swig she'd just taken, though.  It was Ben, all right—Ben wearing nothing but a thick, white towel tucked around his hips.  Shirtless-Ben had been a revelation.   Towel-Clad-Ben?  About fifty explosions shot off throughout her body as another ridiculous blush shot to the fore.

'Oh, kami . . . Cherry, do you see what I see?'

'Oh, I think I do . . .'

Ridiculous amounts of skin, actually, all bared for her perusal since the towel barely hugged the man's lean hips—if she could keep herself from fainting, dead away, that was . . . Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered that it was entirely impolite to stare, and yet she couldn't not do it, either.  Her face felt like it just might explode as the blood hammered in her head, as her heart beat out a near-painful cadence.

Choking on the coffee, she gasped and coughed, wiping her chin with the back of her hand as she tried to keep from spitting the contents of her mouth all over the table.

Ben hurried over and leaned down as he reached behind her to thump her on the back.  "Charity?  Are you okay?"

Eddie snorted again.  "It's because you don't have the damn decency to get dressed before coming down here," she growled, as if she believed that it should have been obvious to him.  "What the two of you do in the privacy of your bedroom is one thing, but—"

He blinked and glanced down at himself, then made a face and waved off Eddie's words.  "We didn't—" He grimaced as he thumped Charity's back a few more times for good measure.  "I'm sorry," he said loudly enough to cut off Eddie's tirade.  "I'll go get dressed."

Charity caught his wrist as she managed to draw in a deep breath without breaking into another bout of coughing.  Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat and shook her head.  "It's fine," she assured him quickly.  "I mean, it's your house, so . . ."

He looked a little startled for a moment.  Then he smiled.  "It's okay, Charity," he said.  "I didn't think about it.  I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable.  Just give me a few minutes."

She tried not to look as he sauntered out of the room again.  She also had to squelch the sudden surge of disappointment since she could think of about a million worse things that being subjected to a very fine-looking man who was comfortable enough to walk around in nothing but a bath towel.  Damn her for choking, anyway . . .

It didn't work.

'Damn . . .'

Her youkai sighed, too.

"Ben Philips."

"Hi, Mr. Philips?  This is Jane.  Jane Douglass."

Leaning forward to set the papers he had been looking over aside, he sat up straight and frowned.  "Good morning," he greeted, tugging the glasses off his face and tossing them gently onto the coffee table.  "Mrs. Douglass . . . I trust you've talked to your husband regarding the twins?"

"Just ‘Jane’, is fine, and that's why I called," she hurried on to say.  "We talked about it yesterday, and, well . . ." She drew a deep breath, as though she needed to fortify herself before she went on.  "We're interested," she said with a soft, almost self-conscious laugh.  "We'd love to meet with you and discuss the next steps.  Denny can take a couple days off if you've got time in the next couple of days?"

"Oh, yes . . . Yes, that'd be fine.  Let me know when you'll be in the city, and I'll set up a meeting."

"All right.  We're looking forward to speaking with you in person," she assured him.  "I'll give you a call again after he talks to his boss."

"You do that," he said, clicking off the phone and tossing it onto the table with a heavy sigh.  Leaning forward, running his hands through his hair as Emmeline cooed beside him on the sofa, he heaved a sigh, turning his face, just far enough to look at the twins.  Nadia was sleeping, and Emmeline was entirely content to simply be near him, and he smiled wanly despite the feeling of absolute dread that clung to him.

They . . . They wanted the twins . . .

Common logic told him that it was still far from a done deal.  Even that knowledge, however, did little to dispel the rising sense of foreboding, of dread that twisted his stomach in knots.

'Why do we have to give them up, anyway?' his youkai-voice demanded.

Heaving an inward sigh, Ben slowly shook his head.  'You know why,' he thought.  'It's not fair to them.'

'Says you.  Does it matter if it's just you?  I mean, really.  What really matters is how much you love them, right?  That's what's important . . .'

Ben started to reply but was cut off by curt trill of the cell phone as the display lit up.  'Zelig,' it read.

"Hello?"

"Ben, hi.  Just thought I'd call and check up on the twins.  Everything going all right?"

Deliberately willing away the darker thoughts in his head, he drew a deep breath.  "Yeah, just fine," he assured the tai-youkai.  "They're just fine—sleeping—well, at least Nadia is.  Emmeline's making weird fishy-faces."

Cain chuckled softly.  In the background, Ben could hear the sounds of passing traffic, and he had to wonder just what Cain was out doing.  "Listen, Sesshoumaru called.  Seems like they aren't having any luck in finding anyone interested in taking the twins, but he said he'd talk to the rest of the family and get back to me.  St. George called, and it was pretty much the same."

Making a face since Cain had brought it all right back to him again, Ben flopped back against the sofa and sighed.  "Myrna found a couple," he admitted.  "They're going to call and let me know when they'd like to meet with me."

"Really?  That's great!  And they know that their father—?"

"Yeah, they know."

Cain sounded entirely too relieved—maybe a little cautious, of course, but relieved, nonetheless.  "Good, good . . . Oh, and I forgot to get a picture of them for their file.  Could you send me one?"

"Uh, sure . . ."  Lowering the phone, Ben switched it over to speaker as he scrolled through the images stored in the memory and selected the best one—both of them, staring up at him from the double stroller, eyes wide, as though they both had to open their eyes as wide as possible just to take in the world around them.  Wearing cute little dresses that Charity had bought for them with sweet little ribbon bows atop their heads, they looked just as sweet and precious as the tiny princesses that Ben knew them to be.  He sent the photo to Cain.  "There."

A moment later, Cain chuckled softly.  "That's . . . a really cute picture," he said.

"They're really cute babies," Ben countered mildly.

Cain sighed.  "Yeah, I'm just not sure I should show this to Gin.  She was already upset that I didn't bring them back with me."

"Had you done that, she would have wanted to keep them," Ben pointed out.

Cain sighed again.  "I know.  As it was, Bas and Sydnie were talking about taking them in, but . . ."

"But?" Ben prompted when Cain trailed off.

It took him a moment to speak again.  Maybe he was gathering his thoughts, Ben didn't know.  When he finally did reply, though, it was in a very thoughtful, almost sad, definitely pensive tone.  "Miss is dying."

"Miss . . .?  Evan's friend's mate . . ."

"Yeah," Cain said.  "We're not sure or anything.  Miss said her doctors told her that it's cancer and that it's spread—metastasized to most of her major organs.  Stage 4.  They say she's only got weeks—maybe.   Anyway, she asked Bas and Sydnie if they'd take Daniel since Dieter's family moved back to Germany . . . She doesn’t want Daniel to have to deal with the culture shock on top of everything else, and, even though Evan and Valerie would probably take him, she didn’t want to put that on them, given that they’ve just gotten married, too.  So, Bas and Sydnie said that they’re going to take in Daniel, at least, most of the time.  Bas said that if Dieter's parents wanted to have him over the summers or something, it'd be an option later."

Ben frowned thoughtfully.  "Does Evan know?"

"Not yet.  I was going to wait to tell them when they got back . . . I hate for them to cut their honeymoon so short, but . . ."

'But there's no time to waste.'

That was what Zelig couldn't bring himself to say.

"I imagine that Evan will be angrier if you don’t tell him," Ben mused.

"I know," Cain said.  "Bas just told me all of this a few hours ago.  I guess Miss didn't want anyone to know until after Evan's wedding, so she just told them last night."  He sighed.  "I'd better call Evan, then . . . Let me know how the meeting goes with the potential adopters.  I'll keep looking, just in case."

"All right," Ben replied.  Ending the call, he dropped the phone onto his lap and rubbed his face in a weary sort of way.

No one had known at the time, just what would happen to Miss after Dieter died.  Ben had been told that the young man had never marked his mate, and they'd been hopeful, given that she was human.  Cancer, strictly speaking, wasn't something a youkai or hanyou could ever get, but Ben had to wonder if it weren't something that happened as a direct result of Dieter's death, after all.  Given how little was really understood on a biological level, it was hard to say, and, while it could easily just be a matter of timing, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe . . . Well, it certainly didn’t help the situation in the least . . .

A small cooing sound drew his attention, and he turned his head just enough to gaze down at Emmeline.  When she saw his gaze meet hers, she squeaked out an unintelligible sound and waved her hands.

Ben chuckled and picked her up.  She couldn't smile yet, but there was an added brightness in her eyes, and he cuddled her close as he laid his free hand on Nadia's tummy, feeling just a little selfish as he savored the welcome feeling that everything was all right in his little corner of the world . . .