inbox.

[unshut]

(crystal | written | action)

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[unshut]

Nikos [she confirms.] I believe he's the one more likely to be in possession of a drink, as well. Whatever did you do to part him from it?

[bouchonne]

Talked politics.

[unshut]

Ah. A most fatal mistake, my dear. [With a glint in her eye, Fitcher tips her face a little higher and further. It's a pretty angle on her; she knows it is.] What were your opinions?

[bouchonne]

[ He takes a moment to sigh, lightly, at the sight of her. Maker, but she's lovely. ]

Utterly mad and radical, of course. That perhaps we oughtn't let every peasant and gutter-rat choose who gets to be king.

[unshut]

Then I see no reason why Nikos Averesch would be so ill tempered. I believe he is neither. [A soft sound, as if something has occured to her only just now.] You didn't say that to him, did you? I think he would prefer if no one noticed.

[bouchonne]

[ A small laugh. ]

And yet he also bristles when you talk to him like he's one of those common freemen he admires so much. Such an odd blend of proletarian envy and hauteur.

[unshut]

I suppose we all have our old habits.

[A quirked eyebrow like Ah well. Her thumb moves absently across his knuckles.]

Has your shirt recovered from the incident?

[bouchonne]

Fortunately, the liquor we were drinking was mostly clear. You can hardly even see the stain.

[unshut]

What a happy relief.

[She smiles, settling a little more deeply into her pillow. ] However did you let yourself be drawn into that trap in the first place?

[bouchonne]

Oh, I invited him out for a drink. I'm trying to assess how much trouble we can expect from him.

[unshut]

[That raises some eyebrows. She huffs out a small laugh.]

What a novel approach to interrogation. Did you glean anything like what you wanted from it?

[bouchonne]

The only sort of interrogation I know how to do: the sort that looks a lot like romance.

But yes, I learned a few things.

[unshut]

[Is that so, say the lines of her expression. His hand receives a soft pinch.]

Should I expect an invitation to drinks soon as well?

[bouchonne]

Why, that depends. Do you have danger lurking in you? Secrets I must uncover?

[unshut]

If it will get me out of the Gallows for a drink shared with decent company, then yes. I believe I can think of a few secrets to pretend to keep from you between now and then. Jealous ex-lovers and criminal connections and all that. I would hate to bore you, Ambassador.

[She drums her thumb there against his hand, her smile twitching briefly wide.]

When I'm not trapped here, I think I would very much like to be taken somewhere. Before you regale me with the details of your scars.

[bouchonne]

Then I shall take you somewhere very fine. Lower your guard with a drink, and with my handsome face, and then get all your secrets out of you.

[ He raises her hand to his lips. ]

All your wickedness.

[unshut]

How charming. I should like to see some part of how you work, Messere.

[She laughs, turning her hand just so as to set her knuckles to his mouth.]

I'll inform you when I'm feeling up to being abducted. But you must swear to be as much of a scoundrel about it as you're able.

[bouchonne]

What kind of a scoundrel shall I be? Do you desire a pretense for slapping me across the face?

[unshut]

I hardly know. Someone who has seen only a stream cannot begin to describe the sea.

[She slips her hand from his in favor of delivering a firm pat to his cheek.]

I trust you to be imaginative, but it will take some effort to convince me to raise a hand against this handsome face you're so proud of.

[bouchonne]

Not that much effort. What would take effort would be having you raise your hand against me without hating me and forswearing all contact with me entirely.

[unshut]

If you insist on being serious about the whole affair.

[Her hand slides far enough to tug at his ear lobe, then falls away.]

But I suspect you recognize the difference. Otherwise those disreputable houses would only just tolerate you, and you are too poor to be indulged for long.

[bouchonne]

[ A crooked little smile. ]

Was too poor. Now I am powerful, and can move mountains. Or at least a mid-sized anthill.

[unshut]

Is that where all Riftwatch's pocket money is going? I knew there must be a reason the food is so dreadful.

[bouchonne]

[ He laughs. ]

How dare you. Those are my family recipes.

[unshut]

No wonder you grew up so thin.