Sorry for the long delay, I've been heavily involved in my sister's wedding and this has been half finished for all of forever. Thanks to those who are still sticking with it.
Thanks to:
Tay, sarah, whitehitsugaya, Krazi3AnimeLover,Jayde Raine, AnimeFreak-TrunksPan-Lover4evr, FoxyFire45 (thanks for the suggestion, I've taken it to heart), Nikki, joy, Rosalie, vanilfrappe, Kopali, anhimals, New Fan, Blue-Heart08, HawkAngel XD, fluffycrush, and birdlady
Note: Sorry again for the lack of speech. I'm honestly treading new waters for this fic. Because of the nature of the Sesshoumaru and Rin pairing I'm portraying here, I feel like conveying emotions through actions more than conversation. For me, as I see the two of them at this point in their relationship, I can't imagine them doing much talking. Because the two of them have such volatile personalities I foresee long-time verbal exposure between them breaking down into screaming matches. It might sound like a cop-out but that's honestly how I feel. These two are taking on a life all their own and while I enjoy trying to write witty conversation, it doesn't feel appropriate here. If I had to describe this story, it's both a love story and a coming-of-age story for both Sesshoumaru and Rin.
Sesshoumaru actually does some maturing in this chapter and Rin…well, Rin's becoming a woman. I was thinking about the good-old-days of puberty when our bodies never did what we wanted them to when I typed this up - now apply that thought to Sesshy and see what happens .
Anyways, I know this is completely different from my other fic "Thread Bound", and I don't expect this be some sort of hit but the best way to describe my mood when writing this is mellow but intense (if that makes any sense). Hope you enjoy.
Ties of Blood
Chapter 12
Comfort?
Miroku considered himself to be quite the connoisseur when it came to women. Granted, he had a bad reputation of asking anything with breasts if she would bear his child but that was neither here nor there. He just couldn't help himself when it came to flattering those of the opposite sex. Most of his fellow men considered women to be a necessary evil - useful for getting a child on and servicing them in one of the numerous whorehouses but, otherwise, weak and generally as stupid as the day was long.
Personally, he thought most men were fools for maintaining such a blindly misogynistic view of the mothers of their society. Okay, so perhaps women in general weren't as physically strong as men were but, in his experience, most women could run circles around men in the brains department. He admired them for their resilience of spirit, their ability to carry a child to term and give birth to it in what was probably the most incredibly painful experience any human could ever undergo…and do it multiple times at that. And then, there were their quick minds, and – Kami help him – their gorgeous, gorgeous curves. He sighed and asked Kami-Sama to forgive him because although he was supposed to be a monk, he honestly considered himself to be a normal, hot-blooded human male.
It was hard not to seize upon every opportunity to swoop in and whisk some unsuspecting lady off of her feet; it would be like plucking an exotic but forbidden flower for him. The only thing that kept him from breaking his vows was the knowledge that he could hold out forever for one "flower" in particular. This particular "flower" was extraordinarily beautiful - vibrant in ways he couldn't even begin to describe – but the catch was that she had thorns, lots of them. It was a constant dance for him to get close to her without having blood drawn. To make matters worse, every time he relieved her of some of her thorns she grew new ones whenever they spent too much time apart. It had been six months since he'd last seen her and he just knew that she had come up with some new excuse to push him away.
However, he would have been lying if he said he didn't like a challenge and his precious "flower" was worth whatever pains he had to go through to obtain her. Besides, he refused to even consider giving her up for someone easier when he knew that she was fond of him in her own way. Call him a fool - and he freely admitted that the less-than-flattering title did fit him sometimes – but if there was one thing he knew it was how to read people. And his "Miroku-Sense" was telling him that not only was she attracted to him but that it wouldn't be long until he saw her again. It was just a strong feeling he had.
He thoughts the gods must have been laughing when, right on the tail end of his thoughts, he heard shouts from his fellow monks and a familiar, cat-shaped shadow passed overhead. A tiny smile spread across his lips but he kept his head down, moving the broom in his hands steadily since he had been sweeping until he allowed thoughts of his favorite taijiya to put his work on hold.
Frowning in concentration, he purposely ignored her in favor of gathering the almost non-existent grains of dust and dirt from the already immaculate temple courtyard. Of course, he couldn't have cared less about how clean the courtyard was and even less because he knew that some other fanatically fastidious monk had already gone over the yard twice the day before. The head monk was just giving them something to pass the time since there had been a lull in the fight with the youkai and they didn't have much to do until they were called again. It was childish of him but he acted as if dirt was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen – even more so than her – because he knew she was impatient and he rather enjoyed seeing her angry face when he didn't pay attention to her.
The click of nails sounded on the courtyard stones, telling him that Kirara had landed and he deliberately refused to acknowledge either the beast or her mistress. 'She won't like this,' he thought to himself but he still maintained his smile; he just couldn't help teasing her.
'Just a few seconds more until she can't take me ignoring her anymore,' he mused silently, 'Let's see, I'll start the countdown from three this time. And a three…two…one…'
"Monk, I need to have a word with you," said the stern voice of his "flower".
Still moving the broom back and forth in even strokes, Miroku continued refrained from looking up at her as he answered in a light tone, "Monk? Darling Sango, there are approximately one hundred and fifty monks here and I don't recall anyone who goes by the name "Monk". I suppose it would be convenient to be called thus since you can be certain that no one would ever forget your name but, alas, there is no one named Monk here, so I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere. Or…," he paused and gave her a slanted look from beneath his lashes, smirking slightly, "maybe you've just forgotten your manners and are assuming that it's perfectly alright for you to come here and ask for something without doing me the courtesy of using my name. We aren't strangers, Sango-chan and you won't keep my attentions at bay by being rude. I've told you once that that childish bullying of yours just makes you even cuter and increases my determination to have you as my wife someday."
Behind him, he heard one of his fellow monks gasp and he ignored it. It was fairly well known that he was not a typical monk and the head of his temple had already acknowledged that his pupil simply wasn't cut out for a life of celibacy. Of course, the fact that he was fairly powerful and his mind was much quicker than most served to ease his way since both traits were in short supply with the war going on. Naturally, there were a few stuffy old men and couple of overzealous young ones who held him in contempt for his fixation on the opposite sex but he, frankly, could have cared less. Flirting wasn't a true breaking of his vow of celibacy and he fully intended to uphold his promise to Kami-Sama until the day the gorgeous young woman before him agreed to be his wife.
He must have been staring at her for too long because she flushed and lightly bit her lip – something he found irresistibly adorable – before straightening her spine and flashing him a glare.
Waving her hand as if she were physically able to brush off his words she said, "Enough of your chatter, Mon…Miroku. I need to speak to you…alone," she shot a look full of meaning at a young monk named Kenji – who hadn't taken his eyes off of her chest once since she began speaking – and the poor thing
did as he was told, or not told rather. The boy scampered off and Miroku held in his laughter; few men could stand up to Sango when she was in one of her moods – she just had that affect.
Leaning against the broom, he didn't bother to hide the fond look he knew crept into his eyes whenever he saw her. She was such a strong woman in many ways but utterly helpless against a man who appreciated her for her mind, her beauty, her skill…and her sex appeal – which she had in spades.
"Would you stop looking at me like that, already," she snapped once her eyes were on him once again.
"Would you stop being so appealing," he replied in a mild tone, flashing her his most charming smile.
She huffed cutely and folded her arms – he would stab himself in the heart before he told her how to gesture emphasized her lovely breasts – and said, "Whatever, I didn't come here to be molested by you. I wanted to request your help."
"I love how you do your very best to persuade me to help you obtain any and all of your hearts desires. I've never met a woman with so much tact," his voice was honey sweet. It left no doubt in her mind that - while he would indulge her in some things - she wasn't going to have an easy time of enlisting his help if she didn't go about it the proper way. He was quite certain that he was half in love with the woman but even he had a limit to how much of her nonsense he would take. Easygoing he might have been, but he wasn't a doormat and every once in a while he had to remind her of that fact.
Sango let out a heavy sigh and said something under breath that sounded suspiciously like "darned worthless perverted monk", but he wasn't sure. Miroku knew she was trying to figure out a way to give him what he wanted without showing him any weaknesses and he held back a sigh of his own.
'Stubborn woman,' he chided her mentally before relenting just a bit and straightening up. Stretching his arms out to ease the kinks and rotating his head a few times, he kept his eyes on her and decided that the day would progress much faster if he gave her an opening and ignored her lack of manners for a spell.
"Sango-chan, why don't we have a seat, hmm?" he gestured toward a couple of chairs resting beneath the giant maple tree on the right side of the courtyard.
Apparently realizing that he had granted her a reprieve from having to show him any sort of respect for a few minutes, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye.
"No, I'm fine just standing. This won't take long anyways."
"So you say," Miroku said in a voice laced with wariness.
She flashed him a sharp look but opted not to comment.
"As I said earlier, I need your help."
"Whatever for, Sango-dearest? Is it something your fellow taijiya can't help you with?"
"No," she said bluntly, "it isn't. I need someone with fairly strong powers and you are one of the strongest I know."
"Well, I'm alright, I suppose, but if you need the help of someone with holy abilities, why not a miko or a priest? For a certainty there are people in either group who are located much closer to you. Why did you feel the need to travel out of your way to see me? Don't tell me…," his voice turned sly and he smirked, rubbing the edge of his thumb over his chin, "that you were so desperate to see me that you were willing to come up with such a thin excuse. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, rather, I'm very flattered and I have no qualms about showing you the…finer points of life in my room."
To her credit, she was getting much better at controlling her temper when he teased her but her face was turning such a fascinating shade of red that he, again, decided that he needed to put it on hold for a moment.
"Okay, so that was a bad joke but seriously, can you be more specific about why you need me of all people?"
"Like I was saying," Sango said in a tight voice, "I need you in particular because you are one of the strongest monks I know. But before I say what I have to say, I have a question for you."
Miroku noted the way she kept her eyes trained on him. She was a stubborn woman and he knew the look she was giving him quite well. Whatever she was about to tell him, she had already resolved to do something about it with or without his help. He preferred that she did it with his help so that he could limit whatever damage she was about to, invariably, do.
"I'm listening."
"Miroku…have you…are tired of this war?"
He met her steady look with one of his own and replied gently, "Yes, I am. I'm tired of the endless bloodshed. I'm tired of walking through villages full of starving children and villages that have been burned to the ground. I would love to have peace, but since the main instigator of this whole war escaped the other day - and just when we finally had him too - I don't see it ending any time soon."
"I feel the same way. I'm sick of them, Miroku. I want this fighting to be done and over with. I love to fight but I don't want it at the cost of so many lives. These youkai, they taken too much and I'm ready for them to disappear – every single one of them."
Her hatred of youkai was clear but he found it unsettling how vehement she was about voicing it. He was upset too about the countless deaths at the hands of the western youkai but he didn't want them all gone. He had seen and heard enough in his lifetime to know that it was unfair to lump them all together like that.
However, he didn't dare voice his thoughts on the matter to Sango, not until she had finished saying her piece.
"That's why I decided to take matters into my own hands. If we wait for the men in charge to do anything, there won't be enough people left for it to make any difference. Now my question to you is this: Who is keeping the strife between humans and youkai going?"
"That would be Sesshoumaru," Miroku answered, feeling somewhat sick as an idea of where she was heading with her speech took root in the back of his mind. 'Dear Kami, please don't let her be crazy enough to attempt the impossible.'
"And what would happen if Sesshoumaru was gone?"
"Well…," Miroku hesitated as he tried to find some way out of saying what she wanted him. He really didn't want to give her an even greater excuse for following through on a plan that was almost guaranteed to get them both killed.
"Yes?" she prompted eagerly, her eyes bright. He mentally swore every vile word he could think of for noticing how gorgeous she looked when it was so clear to him that the course she had chosen was suicidal at best and flat-out insane at worse.
"Anything could happen. The war might end quickly," fairly likely, but youkai were infamous for holding grudges so he wouldn't have laid bets on that outcome.
"Or," he continued, "someone else might take his place and we'll be just as bad off as we are now or maybe even worse. He has relented a bit these past few months and I heard it might be because of the human man they found traveling with him."
Though he adored her, that wouldn't change the fact that she was still Sango and, in typical Sango-fashion, she chose to ignore the second half of his statement in favor for the first.
"That is where I was going, Miroku. Without that arrogant youkai leading them, his servants would probably disperse and life could go on as usual. I have a plan Miroku," she said, her eyes fairly sparkling with eagerness.
The monk had already discerned her "plan" but he knew stopping her would be like trying to tether an ox with a piece of thread. The pitiful thing was that he cared about her too much to allow her recklessness to get her killed without him being by her side to try and catch her when she fell. 'Except, she probably won't be bouncing back from this,' he thought sadly.
Though he knew what she was going to say next, it didn't make it any easier on his poor heart as the words sealing her fate left her mouth.
"Miroku," she said, holding his eyes captive with the intensity in her own, "I want you to help me kill Sesshoumaru."
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Sesshoumaru slipped through his window with barely a whisper, touching down on the cold stones of his bedroom floor as gently as he could. Golden eyes scanned his room for a possible spot to relocate Rin to and settled on an intricately carved chair that was lacquered an iridescent shade of black. Striding over to the chair, he relaxed his hold on the girl and attempted to tug the girl free so that he could get her out of his arms and into the seat post-haste.
The audacious little thing actually had the nerve to tighten her limpet-like grip on his neck and shove her face as deeply into the crook of said-neck as she could. His natural reaction was to take his claws and dig them into her tender flesh if she didn't take her filthy mortal paws away from his person, but he controlled it. It was hardly the time or place for him to allow his pride and inbred disgust of anything human to defeat the purpose of him bringing her to his room. Besides, he honestly didn't feel like hurting her any more that day than he already had and that strange moment in the hallway had shaken him more than he cared to admit.
Letting out a sigh that barely stirred her hair, he looked around for another likely spot before deciding that, just this once, he would lower himself to sit down on his bed with her. His bed, like those in the rooms of his other absent family members, had been imported from the countries across the vast ocean. Those lands were so far west that even he had never been able to follow in his father's footsteps and explore them. He was curious about those foreign countries but not enough to abandon his home and his war in order to explore them.
Padding silently over to the massive bed, he sat down on its black silk covers and arranged Rin's legs so that they were draped across his own. He had already removed his breastplate before following after Rin in the first place, so he didn't have to worry about impaling her by accident. The young lord was, however, beginning to feel less and less comfortable about being in such an intimate setting with the girl. He wasn't particularly used to treating members of the opposite sex so gently and it didn't help that his youki was thrumming from being in such close proximity to someone as inherently fascinating to it as Rin.
The girl shifted slightly and he felt her breathe out a sharp puff of air that made the hair on the side of his neck prickle and drew his muscles up tight. He really, really wasn't prepared to be so close to her and his
eyes darted about as he searched for something – anything - that would take his mind off of hic current predicament. Unfortunately, there were few distractions in his room - he had seen to that personally - and he had never regretted his lack of foresight until now.
'Girl, you are becoming more trouble than you're worth,' he thought sourly.
Sighing again – it was starting to become a habit – he contented himself with loosening the control he had placed on his youki. He needed to check for injuries and utilizing his innate powers was the fastest way to do it – it also saved him from having to lower himself enough to actually use his hands to ascertain her wellbeing. At least she had stopped crying and the sharp scent of her pain wasn't tormenting his sensitive nose anymore.
She must have realized that he wasn't going to throw her off of him just yet because her arms relaxed around his shoulders and she actually pulled away a little in order to fix those soft brown eyes of hers on his face. He studied her in silence as a part of his youki separated itself from his body and crawled slowly down his arm before reaching out thin tendrils towards Rin's left arm.
Rin's eyes widened and she jerked her arm away from the thin threads of power trying to latch onto her while clinging desperately to his neck with the other limb. He growled at her and she froze, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Would you care to explain to me, girl, why you are panicking over nothing?"
"That thing was trying to touch me! What is it? Why did it come off of you? What was it trying t…?" her questions came out in a rush and he cut her off before she panicked even more and bolstered his irritation.
"'That thing' as you put it is my youki. Surely you've seen it before?"
"Youki? Oh, Kagome explained that to me somewhat and I'm sure I felt it earlier but…" her words trailed off.
"You were unable to see it before?" he asked her softly, more than a little curious as to what this new development meant.
"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend but I just saw this green bubble pop out of you and ooze down your arm on its way to me. I'm sorry Sesshoumaru, I'm a little…shaken and I'm probably not making much sense and I'm just so…s-sorry," she bit her lip and it trembled as her eyes filled with tears.
It was so rare for anyone to use his name without an honorific attached to that - in his surprise - he almost forgot the reason why he had brought Rin to his room in the first place. He wasn't petty enough to get upset that she wasn't being entirely respectful of his position as Lord of the West when she was so obviously distraught. Still, he really disliked seeing and smelling her pain and he honestly would have done anything in his power to avoid the repeat performance she was about to give him.
Searching his memories once more for a solution to his current problem, he vaguely recalled his father's human woman and the methods she used when his infant half-brother had resorted to caterwauling in a way that no full-bred youkai would have stooped to. If he recalled it the right way, Izayoi – Inuyasha's mother – would cuddle him in her arms and softly stroke his hair and the little ears perched atop his head. Sometimes she would hum too, but Sesshoumaru refused to go that far.
Looking into her wide eyes, which were shimmering with unshed tears, he slowly reached a hand up and, with the utmost reluctance, drew his knuckle lightly over the fine hair gracing the side of her head. His touch was so light that he doubted she could even feel it but she surprised him, yet again, by blinking back her tears and tilting her head towards his hand, silently asking for more.
Deep brown eyes stared at him and he found himself unable to turn away as he guided his hand upwards again and lightly sunk the tips of his claws into the silky strands of her curly hair. He actually liked the way her disobedient hair snaked up and down his knuckles as he pulled his hand slowly through her locks. Though he told himself that he was only behaving like this because he wanted her to calm down, he found himself reaching up again and again to draw his fingers through her hair, watching in silent fascination as a number of different emotions flew across her face.
'She's a human,' his mind kept whispering to him, over and over again until it became a litany to remind him why he shouldn't be doing this, no matter how much comforting she needed. But his youki whispered a darker truth to him in back of his mind. It told him in its smug way that he was acting like this for exactly that reason.
Rin was a human from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She was many times weaker than him physically. The woman-child was so slow he could kill her a dozen ways in as many seconds. Her hair was plain black and curly, which was hardly considered attractive by most. In fact, he knew that he himself was more attractive than she was, with his pale skin versus her sun-kissed cheeks and arms. Too, her face - while pretty enough - lacked the ephemeral quality of his kind that attracted mortals like moths to a flame.
There were so many reasons why she was unworthy of his attention and yet…his youki was transfixed by her. He had only intended to stroke her head a few times, treating her as a he might a pet of sorts, but his hand seemed to have a life all its own and he couldn't muster up the desire to look at anything else but her expressive face. Funny, that – from the moment she had set him free - he had spent most his time thinking of ways to avoid her and reminding himself that he was not his father. And yet, when presented with abundant proof of why she was unworthy of being in his presence he was quite unwilling to move away.
Faint alarms went off in his head when he found himself staring at her ear and wanting to nibble on it ever so lightly to see how she would react. He touched the tip of his tongue to one of his fangs and calculated just the right pressure he would need to exert on her skin to make her jump and curl into his arms.
It didn't occur to him that there was something wrong with this picture because he couldn't seem to think much further than Rin and taking his time to wring every imaginable reaction out of her. And her smell, it had somehow grown more potent in the past few seconds than he remembered it being. She still had a fascinatingly earthy smell, but he could also smell something that was feminine, deliciously so, and he bent forward, breathing deeply of the scent.
If he squinted, he could see a faint halo around her body which illuminated her features. Again, something niggled in the back of his head that this wasn't quite right but he was having a hard time focusing. So, instead, he dug his hand so deeply into her thick strands of hair that he touched her scalp and, very lightly, scraped the sharp tip of his claws against her delicate skin. Her eyes snapped shut for a few seconds, as if she were in the grip of a strong emotion, and she bent forward to touch the side of his jaw. Slender fingers traced a path down to his neck and he found himself torn between a feeling of wrongness about this entire situation – from the way they both were acting to his lack of distaste for being touched so familiarly by a human – and an unnaturally strong desire to let things be and see where it took them.
It wasn't until her hand crawled beneath the long length of his hair and her nails scratched lightly on the back of his neck that he figured out what was up. The feel of her digits on the sensitive skin hidden by his hair sent a shock down his spine that made his skin prickle. The oddly pleasurable feeling continued on down as it reached his luxurious tail and kept on going until the very tip of it jerked in response and thumped down just as suddenly on the silken covers of his bed.
Sesshoumaru might as well have been doused with cold water. He stood up immediately and dumped her off of him, onto the bed, before catching hold of the tip of his traitorous tail and striding across the
room. The taiyoukai could feel her eyes on him but he did not turn around to meet them. There was something else he had to take care of first.
Narrowing his eyes, he could see little flecks of green apparently floating in the air but he knew better. His youki had merely scattered across so much of the room that it looked as if it was nothing more than a faint shimmering cloud when, in actuality, it was a web of energy that was woven tightly together with strands plucked from the castle's own supply of power. How his youki had managed to coax power from his surroundings without him noticing, he had no idea but he fully intended to put a stop to it before he made even more of a fool of himself than he already had.
Concentrating, he deftly plucked his errant youki from the joints holding the peculiar web of energy together and pulled it back into his body where it rightfully belonged. The tips of his hair waved ever so slightly as the near invisible power rushed into its owner and he watched in satisfaction as the leftover strands of energy in the air quivered before collapsing in on their selves and slowly seeping away, back into the castle stones.
Snorting softly, he took a deep breath and composed himself, not yet ready to turn and face the other half of his problem - who radiated curiosity and bewilderment from her position on his bed. He stroked the tip of his tail gently as he mentally reviewed the events of the past few minutes and struggled to keep his temper in check. If he hadn't lowered the bars he kept around his powers and broken his self-proclaimed rule not to touch the girl, the humiliation he'd just suffered would never have happened. The interference of his youki also explained why she too had reacted the way she had and crossed the invisible lines they'd drawn between them.
He couldn't exactly resent her since she hadn't the training the resist a well executed attack of youkai energy. Apparently, It was one thing to batter at her en masse, which would raise her natural defenses – that was what had occurred earlier out in the courtyard when the residual youki had originally sought her out – and quite another for her to be subtly manipulated after outpouring so much energy against Hiten.
It was something entirely new he had learned about her, yet he took no pleasure in the knowing. And the reason for his displeasure was because - as much as it pained to admit it - he could honestly say that his enjoyment in watching her…touching her had not been feigned. Shame should not have been something he had to go through again, not after the events surrounding his father and that human woman of his but if he had to describe it, there was no other word he could use.
Wasn't he supposed to have learned from his father's mistakes? Hadn't he told himself time and again that he was not his father and, therefore, he would not fall into the same foolish trap? Yet, here he was, angry and feeling more than a little desperate because his youki had tapped into the fascination he held for the human girl. Of course, he got angry because his own powers seemed to work against him where Rin was concerned but, in the end, they were still a part of him and his youki only really worked with what was already there.
What had shaken him, though, was his childish response to her touching him – willingly - with the intent to reciprocate his soothing actions. It might sound amusing to some but it was humiliating to an adult inuyoukai to have reacted the way he had to a simple touch at the base of his neck. Even though it was what had broken his youki's hold over him, the adolescent nature of his reaction made him cringe.
He, Sesshoumaru the current lord of the Westernlands had actually done something as base as wagging his tail…and for a human girl, no less.
It spoke volumes about her potential power over him that she had actually called up such an embarrassingly primal response to her attentions. Who knew what would happen if he didn't maintain his distance.
Turning, he controlled his features and stared at the girl, who stared right back at him with those gentle brown eyes of hers. She looked so vulnerable there, a tiny speck curled into a half circle and floating on
the vast, inky sea of his bed. What creature on earth had the right to look so guileless when he had seen and heard for himself what she was capable of? His hand almost burned where her hair had touched him and he had an incredibly insane urge to lick the spot so that he could roll her taste over his tongue again.
"Girl," he began and she blinked, tilting her head just a bit.
"This thing that just happened…" he began, fully intending to put to rest whatever notions where beginning to form in her head about changing the nature of their relationship.
"You touched me," she interrupted him bluntly and his words died on his tongue.
She studied him for a long moment and - not for the first time - he wished he knew what was going through her head. Rin's eyes held his and he wondered what she saw when he looked at him and why they always seemed to end up in a staring contest when most people couldn't look him in the eye for more than a few seconds.
Sesshoumaru watched as she took a deep breath, closed her eyes…opened them again, and began to speak.
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Sorry for the long delay and weirdness of this chapter. As always, please read and review and let me know what you thought.