.
.
"Perhaps," Saber said, frowning, "this was not a good idea."
It was early morning, and Saber and Lancer were standing outside of the school gymnasium. Normally the door would be unlocked, but on a Sunday morning, when the sun wasn't quite out yet and the school was on winter hiatus, it was no surprise the door would be locked.
Lancer, however, knew how to pick locks. Or at the least he claimed he did, and Saber frowned a little bit, watching as he slipped the pick into the keyhole and fiddled around with it with utmost concentration. "There might be an alarm," Saber said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"An alarm," Saber said. She glanced around, nervously. "Lancer. We do not need to duel in a dojo."
Lancer bent over the lock, forehead furrowed a bit in concentration. That lock of unruly hair fell over his face as he worked. He blew on it, the puff of air just enough to push it out of the way. "I have always wanted to see a modern dojo," Lancer said. "It is a shame these modern clothes preclude us from going into spirit form, it would be quite easy to breach these walls."
"Our inability to go into spirit form does not mean we can simply break and enter," Saber said.
"Ah, but is it not true that the school grounds make up one of the battlefields?"
"Yes, but -"
"And is it not a Servant's duty to better learn the terrain?"
"I suppose, however -"
"Then there is no problem," Lancer said. The pick jammed. The lock of hair fell back over Lancer's face. He blew at the lock of hair again, frowning.
He materialized his spear and jammed it into the padlock. The door cracked open triumphantly.
"There!" Lancer said. Saber snorted.
"That was not very skillful lock-picking, my friend," Saber said.
"On the contrary, Arturia. I used the most appropriate method at my disposal."
"You sound a lot like my Master," Saber said, frowning.
"If I sound like the Lady Irisviel, then I shall take that as a compliment," Lancer said. Saber shook her head and opened the door.
xXx
.
It was dark inside the gymnasium, and it took a moment for Saber's eyes to adjust. Quietly she felt along the walls trying to find a light switch. Lancer meanwhile had walked in ahead of her, craning his neck in the darkness and feeling his way along the bleachers.
It was rather unfortunate: all Saber wanted, and indeed all Lancer wanted, was for the two of them to finish their duel. Unfortunately, manifesting their weapons and armor took up quite a bit of mana, and while Kiritsugu didn't seem to care one way or the other, Lord Kayneth had more than a few harsh words: "Unless you plan on killing her, I'm not wasting precious mana just so you can have your fun," Kayneth said.
"A duel between knights is not just 'fun,'" Saber said, frowning. Further down the gym, Lancer waved.
"I believe I've found the weapons rack," Lancer said. "There are wooden swords here. And this appears to be a bow and arrow."
"Can we duel in the dark?" her eyes had barely adjusted to the thin trickle of light from the open door.
"I don't see why not. The light from the door is fine enough."
Saber shrugged off her coat and loosened her tie, tossing her coat onto the bleachers. "It is unfortunate there are no bo staffs here. I imagine using a wooden sword would put you at a disadvantage."
"You will find I'm quite proficient with a sword," Lancer said. He swung the bokken expertly, examining its weight. "Believe it or not, Arturia, my Master wanted me for the Saber class."
"Really?" Saber pulled a second wooden sword from the rack. "I mean no offense, Lancer, but I cannot imagine you dueling with swords."
"Well. It is true I do prefer my spears. But I see you have your doubts," Lancer said, seeing her face. "Very well. How about a friendly wager then? I am confident I can take you down."
"A wager?" Saber said. "What do you propose?"
His face split into a grin.
"The loser wears a dress of the winner's choosing."
Saber blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"A dress," Lancer said. "For one day, in public. Whilst the winner tags along."
"I-" Saber opened her mouth. Closed it again. Frowned. "You seem awfully confident, Lancer," Saber said. "You're quite certain this little wager of yours won't backfire?"
His grin widened. "I am willing to take the risk," Lancer said.
Saber laughed, shaking her head. "Very well," Saber said, and she held up her sword. "You will make a very pretty princess, Lancer. I look forward to seeing how well you walk in heels."
"Do not be so sure," Lancer said.
They circled each other, taking a stance.
"Prepare yourself," Lancer said. "I shall show you how good a swordsman I truly am."
"I look forward to it," Saber said. "It would be quite the killjoy if you were at a disadvantage."
They readied their weapons and sprung.
xXx
.
Unfortunately, what Lancer lacked in raw fighting ability, he made up for in his evidently burning desire to see Saber in a dress.
"The advantage is mine!" he said, more than a little triumphant, as Saber's bokken got knocked unceremoniously out of her hand.
"...What just happened?" Saber said.
"I believe I just proved myself to be the better swordsman," Lancer said.
"Best out of three," Saber said. Lancer shook his head.
"I dare not push my luck," Lancer said, smiling.
"Lancer-"
"A dress!" Lancer said, triumphantly. "I believe the 'mall' will be open soon, we should pick one out, post haste!"
"I cannot believe we are doing this," Saber said. Lancer grinned at her and opened the gymnasium door.
xXx
.
"Mournful" did not quite describe what Saber was feeling as she walked down the aisles of the woman's department, but certainly a parade of similar emotions seemed to settle painfully in her chest. Annoyance, humiliation, and stunned disbelief that she had actually lost, all seemed to toss and turn and fight for prominence.
She tried to steer Lancer toward the more matronly dresses at the end of the women's section, with high necklines and long skirts, but Lancer would have none of that. "Ah, I think that might be rather large on you," Lancer said. He held up a hanger. "How about this?"
"That is a prom dress, Lancer."
"I suppose that is a bit too much."
They walked up and down the aisle. Saber fidgeted a little as Lancer thumbed through the rack, pulling out dress after dress and slinging them over his arm.
He handed her the dresses to try on, waiting outside the dressing room while she stepped outside to look at herself in the mirror. He seemed noncommittal about the dresses, which heartened her - in her heart of hearts, she was hoping he was only using this opportunity to tease her, and that he would eventually drop this terrible plan. But it was only after he handed her a dress that was so short and so low-cut that she refused to come out, that Lancer exclaimed, "That, Saber! That is the dress I am choosing!"
"What?" Saber poked her head out of the curtain. "You haven't even seen it!"
"You refuse to show it to me. Therefore that is the dress that you must wear!"
His logic was infuriating. But if the situation were reversed, Saber would certainly do the same. She sighed, wearily.
At the castle, Saber pulled off her clothes and pulled on the dress, feeling more than a little bit exposed at the lack of fabric. While the suits Irisviel had given her had constituted thick trousers and stiff cotton shirts, the dress was little more than a black dress slip cobbled together from a few flimsy scraps of fabric. If Saber didn't know any better, she would have assumed the dress was a particularly skimpy piece of lingerie.
"You look very pretty, Saber!" Irisviel said.
Saber stood mournfully in front of the mirror. "This is not too revealing?" Saber said.
"Ah, well...the neckline is a bit low, Saber, but if you wear a necklace it should draw the eyes upward."
"What about the hemline?" Saber said.
"It isn't that short at all! You have lovely legs and that dress shows them off wonderfully!"
"I was wrong to believe Lancer to be a noble spirit," Saber said, bitterly. "Clearly he picked this dress to maximize my humiliation."
"Don't say that, Saber! Lancer picked a lovely dress," Irisviel said. "And I'm sure he's looking forward to your little date as well."
"Date?" Saber stared. "Madam. We are not going out on a date."
"Dinner and a dress sounds like a date to me." Irisviel winked.
Behind them, Kiritsugu was frowning. "You look ridiculous," Kiritsugu said. Saber gestured toward him.
"You see, Irisviel?" Saber said. "For once Kiritsugu and I can agree."
"You would look less like a schoolgirl playing dress up if you wore your hair down," Kiritsugu said.
"What," Saber said.
"Iri. Get your makeup bag. Our adorable King of Knights needs a little lipstick."
"I was wrong to have trusted you!" Saber said. Irisviel pulled out a tube of lip gloss.
There was a knock at the door.
"Oh, that must be Lancer!" Irisviel said, and she ran toward the foyer. She opened the door to see Lancer standing wearing a black suit and dark green dress shirt, looking as devastatingly handsome and charming as ever. Irisviel squealed.
"Saber!" Irisviel said. "Lancer is here!"
"You will let me have this," Saber said savagely to Kiritsugu, and she yanked on his trench coat.
xXx
.
Not surprisingly, Lancer was irritatingly good-looking in his stupid black suit and green dress shirt.
"Saber? Oh," Lancer said, and Saber felt a little bit of glee at the disappointment on his face. "You...that is your ally's trenchcoat."
"Indeed," Saber said. She wound the fabric around herself, triumphantly. "I am wearing the dress, Lancer. But you never said anything about outerwear."
"Oh." He looked disappointed. Saber couldn't help but smirk a little.
"Truly, the mark of a proper warrior is how one can adapt to even the most unfortunate of circumstances." She held her head up proudly and tried to ignore the disappointed look on Irisviel's face as she closed the door. "Well? You said something about dinner?"
"I-yes. But Arturia. You cannot mean to wear that coat indoors?"
"Why not?" Saber said. "Restaurants are very cold and I have no intention of exposing myself unnecessarily."
He looked depressed, like he'd been kicked in the face or yelled at by Lord Kayneth, and Saber grinned, smug with the knowledge that she had turned a losing situation into victory. She goaded him because she could not help herself.
"Well, Lancer," Saber said, and she tripped a little as she walked, stumbling a bit at the long coat and the high heels, but she still managed to do so with an air of dignity and abject superiority. "I am wearing the dress. You have no reason to be disappointed."
Lancer smiled and shrugged, graceful in his defeat. "I suppose I should have been more specific," Lancer said.
"Indeed," Saber said. She couldn't help the obvious mirth in her voice at the work-around.
"It is rather surprising how easily you dishonor yourself," Lancer continued. "I did not expect the King of Knights to go back on her word."
"I-" Saber stopped. "Our agreement was that I wear a dress. There were no other stipulations," Saber said.
"What is the point of wearing a dress if you are too ashamed to show yourself?"
Lancer sauntered past her, hands in his pockets and smiling to himself. Saber scowled.
"But this is so degrading!" Saber said.
"Saber," Lancer said.
"Fine," Saber said, and she tore off Kiritsugu's coat. "Does this satisfy our agreement?"
Lancer smirked, his stupid lock of hair bouncing a little as he turned his head.
"It does," Lancer said.
Saber huffed and started walking fast in front of him.
xXx
.
As it turned out, walking in downtown Fuyuki was next to impossible with heels, and Saber was very sure she would have tripped and broken her neck were it not for her excellent reflexes, body awareness, and overall good luck. Lancer, meanwhile, had slowed his pace to match hers, offering an arm so that she could steady herself. "I am fine, Lancer," Saber said, as the heel of her shoe caught on an iron grate, making her stumble a bit, before she caught herself. "You needn't worry about me."
"Chivalry dictates one helps a lady in distress," Lancer said.
"I am not a lady," Saber said.
"Even so," Lancer said, and he held out his arm.
Saber sighed. "Very well," she said, and she took his arm.
Despite the fact that Saber was clearly losing their battle, their walk downtown was actually rather pleasant. The night was warm. There were soft night sounds and the occasional couple walking by, and the yellow street lamps seemed to accentuate the royal blue of a velvety nighttime sky. "It is very pretty out," Saber said, looking around. Lancer smiled.
"Even moreso with good company," Lancer said.
They reached the restaurant. Saber's eyes lit up when she saw the menu.
She was in the middle of her third bowl of bread when she noticed crumbs dropping into her cleavage. This damnable dress, she thought. She discreetly tried to cover herself with her hand.
"This dress is so low-cut," Saber said. "I feel as though my bosom will pop out."
Lancer kept his eyes trained politely on a neutral spot behind her shoulder. "Is that so?" he said. Saber adjusted her bra.
"It is not so ample. There really is no excuse."
"Ah..." Lancer reddened. "Perhaps you should go to the ladies' room?" he said.
"Why?" Saber said. She stuck her hand down into her cleavage. She fished out a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth.
Lancer was blushing. "Because no one but your one true love should see you bare your chest," Lancer said.
"Don't be stupid, I wasn't going to let it sit there," Saber said.
Lancer wouldn't look at her.
"Oh? What's this? Does the sight of my bosom bother you?" Saber grinned. "You lack discipline if you are so easily distracted."
"I am a man, Arturia. I cannot help but notice."
Somehow, the reminder of Lancer's manhood made Saber flush, unexpectedly.
"Ah, well..." Saber said, and she tugged her neckline upward. "My apologies, then," Saber said, and Lancer nodded. She really wished she was wearing Kiritsugu's trenchcoat.
He walked her to her door. "Thank you for the lovely evening," Saber said. She smiled. "It was not as terrible as I thought it'd be."
"I shall take that as a compliment," Lancer said, and he bowed. His stupid lock of hair fell over his face again.
"You should really do something about this," Saber said fondly, and she reached up to brush the hair away from his face.
The tips of her fingers grazed his forehead. She saw Lancer start to blush.
"Oh!" Saber said, and she snatched her hand away.
They stood awkwardly at the door.
"Well," Lancer said. "Goodnight, Arturia."
"Goodnight, Lancer."
Saber smiled and started to open the door, when impulsively she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
"Goodnight," Saber said, again.
Lancer blinked, stunned. Saber blushed and did not look at him.
"You know, the night is still young, Lancer," Saber said. Her hand was resting on his lapel. "Perhaps...perhaps you'd like to come inside?"
Her face burned. Lancer's eyes widened.
"Oh, um. I beg your pardon. But my Master-"
"Ah, indeed. I had forgotten. Do not trouble yourself over it," Saber said.
"Perhaps another time?" Lancer said.
"I look forward to it," Saber said.
They stood awkwardly at the door.
"Well," Saber said. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Lancer said. Neither of them moved.
"One of us must leave this doorstep, Lancer," Saber said.
"Forgive me for making this awkward," Lancer said. Saber laughed, shaking her head.
"It is this dress," Saber said. "If I had my armor, things would not be so strange between us."
"Certainly the curse of my love spot does not help things," Lancer said.
"Indeed," Saber said, nodding.
They looked at each other for one long moment.
He stepped close to her and softly kissed her, one hand reaching up to slide against the side of her face.
"I beg your pardon," Lancer murmured. His forehead rested against hers. He was still cupping her face. "I did not mean to do that."
"I, um..." His face was close. Her mouth was dry. His hand was warm and the pad of his thumb was tracing half-circles on the apple of her cheek. He quietly leaned forward.
"A duel!" Saber said. Lancer startled.
"Ah...a duel?"
"To work off all these excess energies! My honor after all is at stake," Saber said.
She had never seen him look so wounded. "Oh," Lancer said. Saber pressed forward.
"It pains me to think that I lost to you last time! On my honor, I shall rectify that mistake readily," Saber said.
Lancer brightened. "I see!" Lancer said, and whatever strange energy that had been radiating between them quieted to a manageable lull. "Perhaps we should manifest our armor, then?"
"A fine idea! Let us go back to the gymnasium and find a place to spar. I believe there is an empty parking lot we can use at the school." Saber kicked off her high heels and strode quickly past Lancer, slinging Kiritsugu's trenchcoat over her shoulder.
"There is a chance the other Servants may interrupt us," Lancer said, following her.
"We shall deal with it when the time comes," Saber said, and as she walked her shoes bounced a little bit in her hand.
xXx
.
The lock to the gymnasium door was still broken, and Saber watched as Lancer easily pushed the door open. "We should definitely spar outside," Lancer said, peering in. "It is far too dark to spar in here, properly."
"We are still using wooden swords, I take it?" Saber said.
"I imagine you would like to replicate the conditions of yesterday's match?"
"I do indeed. I shall have to manifest my frock, however."
"I thank you for that, Saber," Lancer said. "That dress can be quite a distraction."
Saber laughed. "Now you know what we fair ladies must endure when we look upon your spot," Saber said. She let a swirl of mana vault upwards, manifesting her frock.
"Why, Saber," Lancer said, and he tossed her the bokken. "I never thought I'd see the day where you characterize yourself as a 'fair lady.' Tonight is a night of firsts, it seems."
Saber laughed, easily. They circled each other in the parking lot, raising their weapons and taking a stance.
Saber. What exactly are you doing?
Kiritsugu's voice in her head. Saber frowned and held up her hand. "A moment, Lancer. My Master is talking to me."
Lancer lowered his sword.
I am about to engage in honorable combat with Lancer. Is there a problem, Kiritsugu?
Idiot. Don't you realize your mana will attract other Servants?
Oh.
Tell me where you are. I'll send Maiya to your location.
Saber shifted, uncomfortably.
That is entirely unnecessary. Thank you for the warning, Kiritsugu.
Hmph.
"I'm afraid I cannot wear my frock," Saber said, and she let her frock de-materialize. The dress seemed even more flimsy and insubstantial as ever. "Apparently my mana will attract other Servants."
"A shame," Lancer said. She picked up Kiritsugu's trenchcoat, slipping it on.
"That seems rather long," Lancer said. He started taking off his coat.
"Lancer?"
"Wear this," Lancer said, and he handed her his jacket. "The length is much shorter and you will still be able to cover yourself properly. I fear you will trip otherwise," he said.
"Thank you, Lancer," Saber said, and she tried not to blush as he draped the jacket over her shoulders. His hands rested on her arms a fraction too long: he blushed and she found herself very interested in the street lamp behind him.
"A moment while I button this," Saber said, and Lancer nodded, stepping back.
This was a bad idea. Saber frowned, fingering the buttons. His coat was warm from his body heat and it smelled faintly like his cologne. This was a very bad idea.
"I don't believe I'll wear this after all," Saber said, and she quickly pulled off the coat.
"Saber?"
"En garde, Lancer," Saber said, and she lifted her bokken. "Tonight I shall hold nothing back."
"I look forward to it," Lancer said, and he lifted up his sword.
She swung. Her body knew what to do, instinct and muscle memory washing away whatever awkwardness was left between them. She vaulted forward and thrust, an explosion of power and muscle that left Lancer on the defensive. He parried. She thrust again and the bokken knocked hard against his, the wood clacking hard and threatening to break.
There was an opening in her defenses, and Lancer thrust, Saber evading and shifting back her weight. She pivoted on her foot and stepped toward him, countering his strike. A strike. A turn. Another. She had him falling back. He countered. She spun and slammed the weight of her sword against him.
"There!" Saber said, and one well-timed strike disarmed him. The sword flew, clattering on the ground.
They breathed heavily, Saber's sword lightly pressed against Lancer's neck, Saber breathing hard and Lancer's chest rising with each heavy breath. She looked at him. He looked at her.
They kissed hard, Saber dropping her sword and throwing her arms around his neck. Lancer stumbled back a bit, not expecting it.
"Wait," Lancer said. Saber kissed the side of his face and neck. "Saber, wait. Wait."
"What?" Saber said. She wanted to keep kissing him. She felt Lancer swallow.
"I do not want to take advantage of you," Lancer said.
"Ha," Saber said.
"Arturia, I am serious." Their bodies were pressed together; she could feel his obvious arousal pushing up against her mound. "My curse," Lancer said. He was trying to control himself. "I do not wish to sully our relationship."
"You are right," Saber said. Her sex ached. She tried to keep from grinding against him. "Yes, yes. You are quite right."
They pulled apart, a suction cup being pried away from a pane of glass. Saber was flushed and her bosom was heaving under her flimsy dress, while Lancer shakily sat on the pavement, balling up his coat and pressing it against his lap.
"But then again," Saber began, and Lancer looked up at her, expectantly.
"Then again, Lancer, I have high magical resistance. The curse does not sway me so easily."
She knelt beside him, pulling off his coat from his lap and carefully straddling his hips. "I believe I can say I do this of my own volition," Saber said.
"Saber," Lancer said, and Saber leaned forward to kiss him. She sank down against his lap, her dress riding up as she spread her legs around him. She felt him reach a shaky hand around her back and fumble with her zipper.
The straps to the dress fell around her arms as the zipper came undone, and Saber sat back up a little to push the dress down around her waist. Her bra was still on, and she felt Lancer's hands hesitantly smooth the bra straps around her shoulders.
"We should go inside the gym," Lancer said. "I believe there are...ah...wrestling mats? That we can perhaps use..."
Saber pulled back a little, arching an eyebrow.
"I mean!" Lancer flushed. "I-forgive me! I know not my place-"
"I am comfortable right here, but if you'd rather go inside..." Saber smiled, softly. "I suppose it would be better than making love in the middle of a parking lot."
Perhaps she spoke too plainly. Her words hung in the air, thick and heavy. That lock of hair fell over his face, a darkened shadow covering his eyes.
All at once, his hands gripped around her waist. He launched his body forward, the force of his movements making her stumble backward were it not for his hands, which have scrabbled and grabbed a hold of her thighs, hoisting her upwards, slamming her back against the light pole. Saber let out a shocked gasp, a hiss of breath as he fumbled for his belt, fumbled for a zipper, shoved up her dress and yanked down her panties, and thrust into her the way he would drive in one of his spears.
Saber let out a strangled cry, barely registering that sudden fullness when he started slamming into her, hard and fast, her back scraping against the metal of the light pole. She gasped as each thrust slammed her back against the pole, forcing the air out from her lungs as her body began sliding down. His hands gripped her thighs, hoisting one leg up around his arm, pinning her in place.
"Lancer! I need- I need- this dress." Saber gritted and squirmed at the fabric. He sucked on her neck and shoved the rest of her dress down around her waist, pushed down her bra, still clasped around her back. "Oh!" she said, when his mouth found her nipple. He slowed as he craned his neck awkwardly, fumbling with her breast. "Oh! Oh!"
His strokes were growing more frantic, harder and faster. He felt so good she ached. Her body thudded against the pole, relentlessly, until he slammed upwards, once, twice, before she felt him suddenly spill inside her.
He cried out softly, his face pressed flush against the bare skin of her shoulder. He shuddered. She felt the tension in his body loosen and grow slack.
Her back was raw. She felt the zipper digging painfully from where it was pressed between her skin and the light pole. His penis twitched inside her, apologetically. His breathing was uneven and labored as she dropped her legs shakily, leaning against him for support, unsteady on her feet.
"I'm sorry, Saber," he said, softly, and there was such a look of self-loathing on his face. "Please forgive me."
And then he bowed his head, ashamed.
She smiled and softly touched the side of his face, tilting his head upwards to look at her. The light from the street lamp fell, illuminating his features. She brushed back the lock of hair, fondly.
"I haven't had my turn, Lancer," Saber said. He blinked quickly.
"Saber-"
"On the wrestling mats," Saber said, softly. "As enjoyable as this was, I'm afraid my backside might not be able to handle it."
She caught his gaze and smiled reassuringly. He looked back at her, wonderingly and suddenly shy.
She kissed the corner of his mouth and brushed her thumb along the hollow of his cheek, an earnest attempt to soothe him. He had softened inside her, but she waited to make sure his guilt was fully assuaged before she slipped her body away from his, demurely wiping away the remnants of his seed and straightening her dress to cover herself.
"You are injured," Lancer said, horrified. Saber glanced back at the large bruises by her spine. She shrugged and smiled.
"I have had much worse, as you may well know."
They walked into the gymnasium. Quietly she waited as Lancer propped open the door to let in a modicum of moonlight, allowing them to see properly. When he was finished arranging the gym mats, she lied down.
A sliver of light was filtering through the crack in the door, and Saber could just make out the shape of Lancer's shoulders in the dim half-light. He had taken off his shirt - no doubt in preparation for what he was about to do - and Saber took a moment to admire the hard press of his muscles, the dark hair and pale, unblemished skin, as he bent forward to reverently kiss her collarbone. His fingers lightly traced the neckline of her dress, gently dipping over the soft mounds of her breasts and carefully seeking out the tender buds of her nipples.
She sighed a little when he finally dragged his mouth over her sex, gently laving her clit with soft, apologetic strokes.
xXx
.
"You know, the neckline of this dress really is very low," Lancer said.
They were lying on the gym mats, Saber's head resting on Lancer's chest while he idly caressed her back. She was lying on her side, the front of her body flush against his ribs and flank, one bare leg draped unceremoniously across his lap. Saber made a face at the mention of the neckline, which she tugged up around her breasts, self-consciously.
"I don't know about the dresses of your time, Lancer, but in mine the busts were equally as low-cut. Have you ever seen a bosom pop out, Lancer?" Saber said. "It was a common occurrence back in my time."
"I don't suppose your bosom has ever popped out?" Lancer said.
"That would be rather problematic if it did, I posed as a man, as you'll remember."
"I have always wondered about that," Lancer said, softly. He dropped a kiss by her forehead, shifting her close. "You are so small and delicate. I cannot imagine you passing for a man."
"That is very sweet, but I think perhaps you are a tad biased," Saber said.
"Arturia." He moved to look at her. "You do realize how beautiful you are, correct?"
"I believe it is only good manners to compliment the woman you've just slept with," Saber said.
"On my honor, I speak the truth."
"Well you are much prettier, Lancer," Saber said. "I daresay you would probably look better in this dress than I do now."
"A shame you did not win the bet."
"Indeed." Saber sighed, regretfully.
"I think any longer, and our Masters will miss us," Saber said.
"Must we leave now?" Lancer said. Saber nodded.
"Regretfully so," she said, and she helped him stand.
He draped his coat over her shoulders as they walked back, neither one of them speaking to break the silence between them. He walked her to her door, his hand pressed against the small of her back, and she saw him close his eyes as she kissed him goodnight. In the castle, Irisviel wordlessly healed the scrapes and bruises along Saber's back, looking over her quietly and not asking any questions.
In the darkness, she felt the ghost of fingertips running up along her spine, and in the spaces of her body she thought that she could still smell his scent. Quietly she folded his coat and pressed it to her chest, thinking silently of the Grail and the wishes of their Masters, and remembering that they too stood on opposite sides.
She looked out the window. She thought she could see Caster's mana flaring, blazing a trail through the star-soaked darkness, could feel the consciousness of a thousand citizens rising in the night. A thousand heartbeats, a thousand voices. A thousand people, and yet she could only think of one.
.
.
end.