Wooing Miss Vidia

Prologue:

In truth, Vidia had not known quite what to anticipate when she had first pounced on Bobble outside the Tinkers Workshop. She had no plan to mind, no strategy for her actions. She had simply grabbed the sparrow man by the collar, pulled him into a nearby broom closet, and crushed her mouth against his in a frenzied kiss. It had been rash, impulsive - a moment of complete and utter madness - and even now, in the midst of her delirium, she knew that she would come to regret her actions the moment that the kiss ended.

…And yet, inexplicably, she was still kissing him.

And - perhaps even more inexplicably - he was kissing her back.

Enthusiastically.

In the confined darkness of the broom closet, Vidia could barely tell where the tinker fairy ended and she herself began. Everything was a graceless tangle of limbs, hair and wings as they tussled against each other in the narrow space, all moss-scented heat and hard, frantic kisses. Bobble's hands seemed to be absolutely everywhere: roving up and down her spine, raking through her hair, moving downwards to cup at her thigh. He gasped her name breathlessly in the short spaces between kisses, and Vidia was oddly satisfied to hear the husky edge that now coloured his usually melodic Scotch brogue.

"Oh my goodness, Miss Vidia…this isn't…I mean, we can't…I mean…oh my!"

"Vidia," she snarled hotly, nipping at his ear lobe before moving to assail his jaw line with a quick succession of feather-light kisses. "Just Vidia."

"Vidia," Bobble corrected himself with a groan. "Oh my dearest wee Vidi-"

Whatever else he might have been about to say, however, was lost in a muffled grunt as Vidia's mouth was once again pressed fiercely against his, smothering the words before they could even pass his lips. They struggled clumsily against one another, pushing and shoving in a blind frenzy to find a vantage place that would prove to be mutually rewarding. The ambition was an impossible one, however, and Vidia found herself snarling in frustration. There was too little air, too little space, and Bobble just wouldn't quit moving…

Dissatisfied, Vidia broke the kiss and pushed Bobble roughly away, holding him at arms length whilst she struggled to regain her composure. At some point in their scuffle, Bobble's goggles had been pushed askew, then abandoned altogether, and he now stared at her blearily through startlingly blue eyes with a look that was as childishly endearing as it was wanton. His own chest was rising and falling heavily, his expression suspended somewhere between soul-deep longing and sheer blind panic.

He swallowed once - hard - and then cleared his throat nervously.

"…M-Miss Vidia? I erm…I'm not sure I understand what this is about, but m-maybe we should talk about this before we -"

Without warning, the fast flyer suddenly pushed him forcibly backwardness. Caught off balance, his foot caught on something in the darkness and he fell, dropping into an inelegant sprawl onto an upturned toolbox.

"What the…?" Bobble's breath hitched involuntarily as he felt Vidia's unexpected weight straddling his lap. His eyes flew wide. "Oh my! Vidia, you're…erm, you're..."

"Hm?" Vidia's smiled, her expression feline - predatory. "Yes, sweetie?"

"You're, erm…." Bobble grimaced and shifted uncomfortably. His tool belt was digging mercilessly into his side. "…Ouch. You're crushing my spanner, there."

Vidia laughed breathlessly. She ground her hips down - slow and deliberate - and made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a purr.

"Oh honey, I sincerely hope that's not some kind of euphemism."

Bobble went white. A tendril of panic began to unfurl in his mind, and he was just at the brink of realising what a dreadful mistake this whole thing was, when Vidia's mouth sought his once more, and, suddenly, just like that, he became as weightless as a thistledown on a breeze. All confusion and pique melted away, and there was only Vidia - beautiful, perplexing, fractious Vidia - and all the wonderful things that she was doing to him.

"…We fiddle and fix, we craft and create. We carve acorn buckets to hold flower paint…"

Working his way methodically through a pile of acorns, Clank was completely oblivious to the looks that his cheerful - if admittedly tuneless - singing was garnering him from the other tinker talent fairies. The Tinkers Workshop was buzzing with a hum of frenzied activity. Fairy Gary had appeared earlier that morning with a frantic order for acorn buckets (the machinery that supplied the pixie dust into the Dusk Keepers Depot had broken. Fairy Mary had shrilly berated him several long, loud minutes, prodding her finger into his broad belly for emphasis: 'How many times do I have to tell you? It's a sensitive piece of equipment! Don't. Overfeed. The mechanism!') and it was all hands on deck as the tinkers rushed to create the parts necessary to repair the massive contraption.

In the mist of all this commotion, however, Clank was an oasis of stoic calm. He sat at his workbench, swinging his hammer in rhythm to the tempo of his song. The work was basic, but precise, and the completed acorn buckets that were deposited into the trolley at the end of his bench were flawless models of craftsmanship. Fairy Mary had given him a curt nod of approval as she bustled past, which was as close to a 'well done' as Clank could have hoped for, given the circumstances.

He threw another finished bucket into the trolley, and reached for a new acorn. "…Weave saddles and satchels, for birdies you see. Make baskets and bushels to carry the seeds!"

He looked up from his work for the barest of moments, and noticed Bobble entering the Workshop. He paused in his song long enough to grin at his friend, indicating the empty space on the workbench next to him with a jerk of the head. Bobble grimace and began to walk gingerly towards him.

Clank's smile faded as Bobble drew closer. He faltered, holding his hammer over the new acorn without striking. Bobble looked an absolute mess. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt torn, and there was a dazed, absent look in his eyes that Clank had never seen before. Bobble threw himself heavily at the workbench without a word and stared blankly ahead.

Clank let out a low whistle. His gaze took Bobble in from his head to his shoes, and then back up again. "Cor, Bobble!" he exclaimed, his brow raised as his expression struggled somewhere between concern and barely concealed amusement. "What happened to you?"

Bobble blinked tiredly and then slowly shook his head.

"I have no idea, Clanky. Absolutely no idea." He was silent for a moment, then added: "I think Miss Vidia has gone mad."

Clank set his hammer aside and considered Bobble with fearful appraisal. "Vidia did that to you? You look like you've gone five rounds with a rabid chipmunk!" He glanced around the workshop, then ducked lower to ask in a conspiratal whisper, "You must have done something dreadful to make her that cross. Was she very angry?"

Bobble cast him a sidelong look.. "Angry isn't quite the word, Clanky."

Clank was left to mull over this in bemused silence, as Bobble let out a sigh, closed his eyes, and let his head drop to the worktable with a thud.