AN: This is just something me and my friend wrote. The POVs change a bit but I think it is still readable. WE HAVE DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE. Shipped Page and Reaver. Any Feedback would be nice. If someone out there likes this. Enjoy!

Ah, The Sewers...

The underside of Bowerstone. Once you were used to the smell, this place wasn't all that bad; bearable, even. Page had built a home here. Not just her, but several others who also protested the monarch and the way things were run.

Page sighed, slumping forward over the world map-table in front of her. Things had grown more and more boring. Even less smugglers trying to get through the passages. Didn't leave her with much to do. Pushing away from the table, Page grumbled under her breath. She needed fresh air, an event that was rare for her. She wandered through the puddles, finding her way up to the streets of Bowerstone Industry.

Ugh… Page looked around with disgust, eyeing the "Reaver is Industry" posters that hanged on every wall of every building. She wanted to rip them down and throw them to the ground, but knew it was useless. They would just be replaced the next day. Shaking her head, Page turned to and began walking aimlessly through the streets. She had no idea what to do above-ground. Perhaps target practice, out in the woods somewhere.

"No, no. Not like that, Katherine!" Reaver sat up,his face showing disdain and boredom. His newest servant, Katherine, was still learning. And she was not making good progress. Somehow she had made one of his favorite past-times a horror and he had enough of it. It had been two days after all. The other servants got the hang of it on the first day! This would not do.

He pushed her off him and made a mental note to kill her once he had the energy. "M-Master Reaver, I'm doing as you asked! What is wrong?" she whined. Reaver rolled his eyes as he pulled his clothes on. "You are not doing it well enough, obviously. Stay here; I'm going for a walk. And you shall not follow me, understand?" She nodded, with tears in her eyes. Oh, how pitiful.

He put his signature hat on, with his cane in hand, and stepped into the streets of Bowerstone.

Page squinted her eyes as she walked; she couldn't remember the last time she had been outside. Judging by how much the light bothered her, it had been a while. Her brow furrowed as she heard beggars on the streets asking for coin. She wished she was able to give them some, but Page didn't have much money to her name. She had enough to get by. These streets were pitiful. People barely had enough money for a meal a week.

She lowered her head to avoid the stares of beggars and workers and let her mind wander. Various thoughts entered and exited her mind before she realized she needed an exact destination or else she'd wander for hours. "Where to go. Where to go." Page mumbled, placing a hand on her trusty pistol. "Mourningwood? Maybe. Always plenty of Hollow Men, there," she sighed, looking up only to see Reaver's face on an other poster. Seeing those posters was almost as bad as seeing the real thing.

Bowerstone was filthy and full of beggars. Most of them were his former employees that had said one too many things about how he ran his company. He really didn't know where they got the nerve. He paid them, gave them benefits, and even tried to teach them a lesson about safety. He was the most generous person he knew! Why couldn't they see that?

Reaver sighed and continued to walk along the road, enjoying all of the stares he received. He stuck out like an Ogre in a crowd of Hobbes and he knew it. The stares he got were none too friendly, either, but he didn't mind. Any attention was good attention. He was beginning to get bored, all of the hustle and bustle wasn't exciting to him in the slightest. Is there no one in this blasted town worth-

A figure he recognized caught his eye. Dark skin and a scowl. He'd know that anywhere. Much better. He hurried his leisurely pace and sidled right in front of her, a smirk on his handsome face.

"Hello there, Page."

Maybe I can find some bal- Page's train of thought cut-off as someone blocked her way. "Reaver. Wonderful to see you," she nearly hissed between her teeth. No one bothered her more than he. "Now, if you'd excuse me," she waved a hand and side-stepped, moving around him.

Of course he'd show up. Page should have expected him of all people. Note to self: if ever going anywhere, take the sewers to the nearest exit, she grumbled in her mind. She could get virtually anywhere in Bowerstone from underground, which would be an excellent way to avoid people like Reaver. Just Reaver, in fact. He was the only person she never wanted to see. Even Saker was more pleasant to encounter on the streets.

Page was one of the most interesting people Reaver had ever met, and he had met many people during his immortal life. She was strong, resourceful, and was never afraid to speak her mind. Which is why you aren't getting away this time, Pagey.

"Ah-ah-ah, no you don't, my Dear." He grabbed her wrist, forcefully, but not enough to hurt. "Now,why would you be out of the sewers today,Page? Coming to see me? Or are you and Benjamin having another tryst?" He smirked, knowing that would get to her.

Page yanked her hand from Reaver's grasp, glaring at him. "I'm not allowed to leave the sewers? And I-" she made a sound of disgust. "No. And I don't know why people must insist such things." Hearing anything that remotely suggested the two interacting in even the slightest promiscuous task bothered her. Of course it did. Ben could be amusing, but he was… Ben. That was the only way she could ever explain it, even to herself.

"If you don't mind, I thought I would get a little target practice in before I felt the need to find a live target to shoot." Page folded her arms across her chest, shifting her weight to one him, giving Reaver a look of utter distaste.

Seeing Page annoyed like this was amusing to him. She always seemed to freak out at the smallest things. "Then allow me to join you, my Dear. My aim needs a bit of…practice." This was an outright lie of course, his aim was always perfect. He couldn't remember the last time he missed a shot.

He got closer to Page, almost nose to nose with her. She smelled rather nice, considering she spent all her time in the sewers. "What do you say?

"If you promise to not mention Ben." Page stepped back, returning a comfortable distance between the two. There was no point in protesting; he would follow her and annoy the living snot out of her. At least compromising could potentially keep the industrialist quiet about touchy subjects. She couldn't figure out why annoying her brought Reaver such pleasure. Maybe he was just a sadist.

With a huff, Page turned on her heels and waved for him to follow. Her destination would have to change; she preferred to keep her slight association with Reaver quiet. "I don't suppose you know anywhere… private." It was a rhetorical question more than anything, but Page faintly hoped he would give a suitable answer. One that pertained to their activity of choice, not Reaver's personal desires.

Reaver had not thought she would give in so readily. The woman could actually be… compromising. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Reaver followed right beside her. He smiled a catlike grin. " You wish to be alone with me, eh?" Reaver chuckled,his smile growing ever wider.

"Hmmm, I do know of one place. Plenty of Balverines to be shot and Hollow Men to obliterate. And I'm sure there are a few cats stuck in tress you could save too." he added. He looked over at her. "Your cause is entirely too noble."

Page already regretted letting him tag along. "It's better that way, in case I finally decide to kill you," her voice was serious yet hinted at sarcasm. If she were sarcastic about anything in her statement, it would be about the privacy. She'd much rather turn it into a spectacle in Bowerstone Industry. "That sounds lovely. And just where would this be?" she shook her head slowly, making a mental note to never go anywhere with Reaver again. "I don't like cats," she commented aloud, more or less to herself.

Reaver smiled proudly. Even Benjamin couldn't get her to agree that fast. His skills were getting better by the day, he was sure. "It's a delightful little patch of forest, just West of my manor." he replied. "I can assure you, we will be quite alone, my Dear." He offered her his arm. Reaver didn't think she would take it, but decided to at least try. He had gotten this far, already, anyway.

Page ignored his arm, not even acknowledging it. "Just wonderful. I love being seen near your manor." Reaver's manor was more depressing than the streets of Bowerstone. All those people who had to work for this insufferable man… And ugh, what he probably had them do for him. It made her shudder. No amount of coin in Albion could make her want to work for him. "I do not want to know what you expect out of this privacy." Page felt violated everytime Reaver even glanced at her. She refused to imagine what Reaver would do with any woman - or man - in private.

Reaver put down his arm, not in shame, but in curiosity. He still wondered about her; what she could tolerate and what she couldn't. "Oh, I don't expect anything special out if it. You asked for privacy, remember? I'm giving it to you. It's up to you what you wish to do with it." He gave her a calculating look, then walked off ahead. "Follow me then, the Balverines aren't going to hunt themselves." This was going to be interesting.

Page sighed. It hadn't been long but she already wanted to back to the sewers. Reaver only made this more unbearable, but at least she was socializing. "Yes, I'm sure Reaver, the most promiscuous man in all of Albion - and else where, I am sure - expects nothing when a woman asks for privacy. Why do I not believe you?" She balled her hands into fists. "Lead the way, I suppose." Killing balverines would be good for her, give her a chance to vent before getting labeled a murderer. For now.

It was obvious Page didn't want to be seen with him. Why? He hadn't the slightest clue. But she was sure being a good sport about it. They walked a few minutes in a comfortable silence, her trailing just behind him. He wanted more than just silence though. He wanted to rouse the angry balverine within her,which he knew was there. He wanted to see what made her tick, what she thought of him. He stopped abruptly, a sly smile on his face that she couldn't see.

Page hadn't noticed Reaver stop; her mind had wandered elsewhere. She walked into him and gasped, stumbling back. She looked around after shaking her head, trying to figure out why he stopped so abruptly. "What, what?" she reached for her pistol but didn't draw it, letting her hand rest on her trusty weapon for a moment. After staring for a minute, Page realized it had been nothing. Just Reaver being Reaver. She threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes, starting down their path again.

He smirked. It was uncharacteristically cute of her to bump into him and he wanted to see what else he could get out of her. "I have a question, if you will indulge me." Giving her no room to protest, he moved closer, practically towering over her. "What do you think of me? Of who I am? And why?" His eyes were intense in that moment,nearly black

Reaver's stare made Page feel… uncomfortable. A slender eyebrow raised at his question. Why should he care what she thought of him? He was nearly everything she hated. Could she flat out tell him that? Page considered it for a moment. She opened to mouth to tell him just that but promptly shut it. Page had a tendency to be too blunt sometimes. Not that she was any good at smoothing over the truth.

"I'm not sure why you care, but I'm not one to lie: I think you're a self-absorbed pig who wants nothing but money, men, women, and more money." Page looked away; she felt too awkward with him staring her down. Her comment wasn't 'everything I hate' but it was still the truth.

Her answer was a little…nicer than what he previously thought she would say. "Ah-ah-ah, Page darling. That's not the whole truth. Come now, I can handle it. I am Reaver,after all." Reaver grabbed her chin in his hand and gently turned her face towards his, still keeping the expression he had earlier. "Look me in the eye, and tell me. Unless you are afraid, of course."

Page, afraid of Reaver? Not a chance. Being a little nicer for once suddenly meant she was scared? "For what reason would I be scared of someone who hides behind money and 'influence'?" she moved his hand from her face and looked away. She was suddenly hit with a pang of guilt. Her eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't think of anything she was necessarily guilty of, other than being out and about with Reaver. Her eyes flicked back to him. "Why?"

She was getting even more interesting, if that was even possible. He chuckled. "Oh,Page. There is so much you don't know. I do not hide behind those things:I am those things." He moved his mouth toward her ear and whispered, his voice lowering a few tones "As for why? Why not? You interest me, Page. I'd like to know more about you." His mouth dropped to her cheek. "Why won't you let me in?"

Guilt was nagging at her now. Why? The resistance? Something someone else? Page squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "Because—" she didn't really have that answer. Trust was foreign to her, especially when it came to someone like Reaver, and maybe that was why. That, and just standing close to him felt wrong. If anyone else from the resistance stood this close to him, they would have tried to commit murder by now. Why hadn't she? Too many answer-less questions filled her head. It was like trying to have a serious conversation with Ben. "Just…" Page shook her head and turned away. "I should get back to the sewers."

That… wasn't the reaction he was expecting. Not in the least. He frowned. "Hm, fine. Think upon what I've said. Perhaps we may meet again sometime? I'm dying to know more about you." With a quick kiss on the cheek, almost too innocent for Reaver,he turned her around by her shoulders and set her off.

Page wanted to slap him. But, she wanted to get back underground as quickly as possible. She'd be there for a while, mainly to avoid Reaver as much as possible. Hide in the sewers until the guilt subsides, only going out in very dire circumstances.