The Hunter
Alrighty, I think it's obvious that I don't own Obisidian, Neverwinter Nights 2, or anything except for Tasha. Anyways, this is going to be a series of one shots between all the characters, but mainly Bishop and Tasha. So...yeah. Here we go...
Bishop eyed his dagger coldly, holding the glinting metal in front of his face. It gleamed wickedly, reflecting the light from their small and dying campfire. The ranger lowered the blade and turned his honey-colored eyes to the paladin.
Casavir slept with one hand under his head, the other thrown across his body protectively. His neck was tilted back, the finely tanned skin of his pathetically vulnerable throat all too obvious. Bishop sneered at the mental image of the throat slit wide open, the annoying paladin and his holier-than-thou lectures finally silenced, but he immediately dismissed the pleasing idea.
Next his eyes traveled to Khelgar. The dwarf, axe only a foot away, was snoring loudly. Periodically he would roll over and mutter a long stream of dwarvish, ending the latest phrase with a grumbled desire for ale. He was a fighter, than much was obvious; barely topping four feet, Khelgar was nothing more than hardened muscle and beard.
Bishop's burning, slightly hung-over eyes landed on Neeshka, who slept with her back arched, her knees pulled pulled in almost to her stomach. Her tail twitched restlessly, and the occasional whimper told Bishop that she was dreaming. Helpless, dreaming, relaxed...it was pathetic, but far more preferably than her daytime cheerfulness.
His gaze slid along the ground to the final member of their little party, Tasha. He frowned slightly at her form, every now and then jerking as she dreamt. The cleric mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over, one hand reaching out to grab at Karnwyr. The wolf gave a satisfied little grunt and shifted, leaning against the black-haired tiefling, who smiled in her sleep. Bishop sneered at her; so strong and battle-ready in front of everyone else, yet so calm and utterly, completely defenseless right now.
Has Duncan told her anything? the ranger thought to himself, turning to glare into the embers. I should kill her, just in case he's opened his trap...
The thought was faintly displeasing, but he passed off his hesitance as the desire he had felt the moment he saw her. After all, it wasn't every day that a pretty wench like that traveled alongside you, grinned at you, slept not two feet away from you...
He snorted at his own thoughts and sheathed the dagger.
In time, perhaps.
But for now...
Bishop rose and stepped silently to the sleeping tiefling. He crouched, the leather of his armor rustling faintly in protest. The ranger's hand crept out and he grinned, the gauntleted appendage resting softly, seductively, right below Tasha's ear. The hand slid down, moving along he neck and then to her collarbone, brushing it softly.
He leaned down, not two inches from her face, and whispered, "Your watch."
Tasha's eyes snapped open and fixed on his instantly, blinking in tired confusion. "Wha-?"
The hand continued its stroking, dancing swiftly and tenderly across her collarbone, moving to the hollow of her neck. He smirked shamelessly when her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly.
"Your watch, m'lady," he drawled, breath hot on her face. She inhaled sharply and nodded, coloring faintly.
Bishop grinned to himself and stepped away, watching in twisted satisfaction as Tasha swallowed and sat up, refusing to look at him.
For now, at least... I can enjoy this.