Varric, are you and Cassandra...?

What, no! Why would you even ask that?

Truly? Bizarre.

I'm right here!

See. She's right there. What are you waiting for?

Just because two people dislike each other doesn't mean they're about to kiss, Sparkler.

Not according to your books.

Don't mistake me for that hack who wrote Hard in Hightown 2. I can spell.

Damn Tevinter, this was all his fault.

Varric couldn't stop thinking about it. Which was damn annoying, since he pretty much wanted to think about anything other than his relationship with the Seeker.

Not that there was anything to think about. At best, they were comrades-at-arms; at worst, she could still end up being the death of him, literally.

Still, that wasn't enough to stop him from wondering just what it would be like, if they were something else, something more ...

But no, that was impossible, not to mention awkward on so many levels. Just the physical differences would be more than enough to give him pause, not that he'd ever let that stop him, not if he really wanted something. Or someone.

Andraste's ass, why was he still even thinking about this? Yes, she was beautiful, sexy even, especially when she was cutting down their enemy of the day with her sword. But he sure as hell couldn't ever let the Seeker know he thought that.

Damn Tevinter, this was all his fault.

Cassandra could not stop thinking about it. Which was quite irritating, since she would prefer to think about anything other than her relationship with Varric.

Not that there was anything to think about. At best, they were allies fighting against this madness; at worst, he was a liar whose continued presence would only hurt the Inquisition.

Still, that wasn't enough to stop her from wondering just what it would be like, if they were something else, something more ...

But no, that was impossible. Such matters would only serve as a distraction, not that this had stopped Dorian and the Iron Bull from shaking up. And they did seem quite happy, so maybe she would be too.

By the Maker, why was she still even thinking about this? Yes, he could be charming when he wanted to. And she could understand the desire to turn the world into a story where loose ends could be neatly tied up and everyone got a happy ending. But she sure as hell couldn't ever let Varric know she thought that.

On the first evening that they returned to Skyhold, Varric and Cassandra found themselves sitting down for another game of Wicked Grace. Much to everyone's disappointment, Cullen had declined the opportunity to win back his dignity.

"It is likely for the best anyway," Josephine said, with a smile. "It wouldn't do for the Commander of the Inquisition's forces to find himself without any wardrobe left at all."

"Spoilsport," muttered the Inquisitor. "I really did enjoy watching him lose."

"As did we all," said Dorian, with a chuckle and a smirk. "As did we all."

"Right, why don't I go ahead and deal then," Varric said after a moment, shaking his head. "Ruffles is up first, if anyone else is brave enough to take her on."

After a long moment of silence, Cassandra surprised herself by saying "I'll take my chances, deal me in."

Varric's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure you can handle it, Seeker?"

In the background, Dorian muttered something about Varric wanting her to handle something different. Cassandra ignored him. "With a family like mine, it takes more than an Antivan to scare me off."

Varric shrugged. "Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

"As if I need your warnings."

Dorian snickered again and she glared at him. Not surprisingly, that only amused him more. "I think I'll watch this round," he said. "I wouldn't want to interrupt anything."

Varric rolled his eyes. "If there aren't any other takers, let's get this show on the road."

Cassandra found herself staring at the dwarf's hands as he shuffled and dealt the cards. His movements were effortless, showing both his familiarity with card games as well as a rogue's deftness of hand. She could imagine him disarming traps with just as much ease, or taking coin silently from an unsuspecting mark.

Or caressing his lover's face.

She turned away at that last thought, as heat rose to her cheeks. Thankfully the cards were dealt now and she could focus on something else. Because of this, she didn't notice Varric's attention turn to her.

He'd found himself watching the Seeker too many times lately. Watching her, and wondering. Now at least he had the excuse of the game, as he tried to decide if she was bluffing or not. He hadn't yet picked up on any of her tells - and, despite Josephine's claims to the contrary, almost everyone had a tell, if you watched carefully enough - but he was very familiar with the many moods of Cassandra Pentaghast.

Right now, she seemed reasonably pleased with her cards. Her hand must be good but not great. Not yet. A few more draws and discards, and that could change. He found himself watching even closer, to try and see the moment when it did.

There. She picked up another card and her lips twitched slightly, just the hint of a smile. He might not have noticed the movement, if the scar on her cheek hadn't accentuated it. He wondered where she'd gotten that - he'd tried to ask once but his only answer had been a glare.

Most of his answers from the Seeker had come in the form of a glare. Maybe some day that wouldn't be the case. Despite everything, he really did sort of like her.

Maybe a bit more than sort of.

He glanced over at Dorian, who was watching the game with far too much smug enjoyment. The mage grinned when he noticed Varric's gaze, then mouthed two words: right there.

Varric looked away and focused on his own cards. Given how pleased Cassandra looked, he didn't think he had much of a chance. This was only confirmed when the next card drawn was the Angel of Death.

"Let's see them," he said, looking back at the Seeker. She was looking at him and actually smiled, albeit smugly, before putting her cards down.

"Three knights and a pair of angels," she announced, her eyes still fixed on Varric.

"That's got me beat," he admitted. "Nice cards, Seeker."

"It is a good hand," Josephine said, and Varric realized he'd almost forgotten she was playing to. This was definitely not a good thing. "Unfortunately, mine is better. Four songs."

Cassandra's scowl was back as she watched Josephine collect her winnings. "Damn Antivans," she muttered, colour appearing on her cheeks. "And don't you dare say that you told me so," she warned Varric.

Luckily for her, he was too busy looking at the way her skin flushed around the scar and - Andraste help him - thinking of other reasons this might occur.

"Seeker."

"Varric."

It was an hour past sundown, which meant that the main hall was empty. Or almost empty, except for the Varric and Cassandra, who stood in the light from the dying fire, many feet of awkwardness between them.

"Look, Seeker," Varric began, "if you're looking for the next instalment of Swords and Shields, I've been a little busy, what with this saving the world thing, so-"

"I want you to kiss me."

For a moment, Varric was actually speechless. "You what?"

"You heard me," Cassandra replied, her voice commanding. At moments like this that it's easy to see how she rose so high in the world. You almost can't help but obey.

"Okay … why?"

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Because Dorian's words made me curious. And don't you dare pretend that they didn't do the same thing for you. I've seen you watching me."

He wasn't going to pretend anything – for once – but he doesn't tell her that. Instead he just nodded. "As you wish, Se- … Cassandra."

"Good," she murmured, before frowning. "How do we ...?" She paused, then shifted, preparing to kneel.

"No, no, don't do that!" Varric grimaced at the thought. "Just wait a moment." He walked over to grab a nearby chair, then pulled it over. He quickly got up and stood on it. "That's better," he said, smirking when he realized he was now a bit taller than her, even if he was cheating.

They stood there, staring at each other. And staring. And staring. They'd never seen each other this way before, from this literal or figurative angle. After almost a minute had passed, Cassandra frowned. "Varric …"

Whatever she was going to say was lost as Varric reached over, grabbed her arms, and pulled her into a kiss.

The kiss was messy and more than a little awkward. It was also amazing. It had been a long time for both of them, and perhaps a long time coming as well. The clash and dance of lips and teeth and occasional tongue continued until they finally had to break apart, gasping for air.

Cassandra leaned her forehead against Varric's, and he was pleased to see the flush back on her cheeks, the colour deeper than before, making the silvery scar tissue stand out that much more. After a few deep breaths, she straightened to stand upright, looking at him with remarkable composure, all this considered.

"Did that …" Varric paused to cause, trying to match her calm and failing, "did that satisfy your curiosity?"

She took a step back, then smiled. "Yes," she said, before turning and walking away.

"Good," he muttered to himself and she left. "Because it only fueled mine."

I saw the most fascinating thing the other night, Varric.

Do I even want to know?

Oh, I think you will.

Fine. Out with it, Sparkler, what did you see?

Well, there I was, just minding my own business in the main hall, when what did I spy but-

Enough!

But Cassandra, I'm just getting to the-

I said enough.

Oh, fine. But let me tell you, I've never been so proud for meddling before my life.

Is that so?

Yes, yes it is.

Fine, good for you, Sparkler. And … thanks.

You're welcome.