A/N: Blame Lioness. Or thank her, either or. This is a (really) late birthday present, because I neglected to either write or call her on her birthday D: So I decided to give her some nice BekaRosto fluff. ^^ It probably doesn't help that I haven't read Terrier or Bloodhound, so this is probably incredible OC. D: Forgive me if it is, please and thanks.
Beka Cooper is, for once in her life, unsure what to do. She is well aware of Rosto the Piper's affections for her – in fact, she is beginning to find it to be the over-flattering kind of drapery-affection, like the kind one get from a puppy – pure adoration, no matter what the owner says or does. What is making her so unsure, so insecure during dinner is the sudden, lightning-realization that she is beginning to feel the same kind of affection for the Rogue.
Needless to say, when he asks her to his room after dinner at the Dancing Dove, just as she finally regains her composure after responding in a nervous manner to all his banter, she is slightly shocked and more-than-slightly appalled. The implications of that one question makes her blush and she says a simple, clean, "No, Rosto the Piper" But the reply is not so clean. The Scanran's name, which she says in full title, comes out of her mouth as one word: rostothepiper. That makes her cheeks redden more, and he does nothing but smile his awkward little smile, the one that is supposed to be charming and imply every little rash thing in Beka's mind. It's the same smile she would sometimes see in her dreams, but of course she will never admit to that.
Rosto turns with a flourish and takes hold of her hand anyway, half-leading, half-dragging her towards the door of the inn, throwing a more dashing smile over his shoulder at her blue-grey glare. When he removes the two of them from the Dove, his warm eyes twinkle at her with childish amusement. "Will you come up with me, just for a moment? I have something to show you." There is that smile again, behind his words and at the corners of his mouth. The wind tousles his hair, shining white in the moonlight, and his other hand is pressed against her free hand.
"What do you have to show me, Rosto?" Her voice softens slightly, but instead of actually hearing what she had asked and answering it accordingly (the Rogue has this habit of hearing only what he wants to hear), he just smiles and says, "Come see." And then they are off again, walking up the stairs to his boarding room. The door closes behind them with a near-silent schnik that makes Beka stiffen. She has, of course, been in the Rogue's quarters before, but something is different tonight.
"I bought you something from Port Caynnn." Rosto's face is still lighted by his amused smile, and he reaches across his desk and holds up a small box. When Beka makes no move to take the box, he shakes it enticingly. Beka eyes the box warily and asks its contents, and Rosto sighs. "A surprise," he mumbles, and forces the box into her hands. "Open it. You'll like it."
Beka pulls the string off the box and slowly opens it, then gasps. "Rosto…" she picks up the necklace, holding the chain so that the pendant caught the light: a single diamond under the care of a wrought silver dragon; the gem acts as a prism, casting rainbows onto the walls. "It's beautiful." she finishes speaking slowly, looking away from the masterpiece to gaze into Rosto's brown eyes, and their warmth again enraptures her.
"It's for you." Rosto's hand moves from his side to the side of her face, the tips of his fingers barely touching her cheek, his smile still turning up at the corners of his mouth. His eyes seem to smolder with some deep emotion, instilled deep in his heart.
"You shouldn't have, Rosto," Beka said, looking down at her feet and blushing furiously before looking back up at the Rogue through her eyelashes. He is still looking at her, giving her that look. "There has to be something I can do –"
"To repay me?" Rosto interrupts, his previous deep emotion – love? overwhelming aattraction? – being replaced by his amusement once more. "There isn't."
"Rosto!" Her gaze snaps up to his face, searching for something. She was used to getting gifts along with affections, but from Rosto? The necklace must have cost a fortune – how had he been able to acquire it? "There has to be something!"
"Well, now that you mention it…" Rosto trails off, stepping backwards. He stands slightly away from her, then he faces her again and smiles her, a slightly wicked and slightly expectant and slightly frightened at the same time, although he is like Beka in that he would never admit that, not even to himself. "Can I have a kiss, Beka?"
Beka flinches, and something in her chest aches. Her cheeks warm, and her breath catches in her throat. "What?" It isn't an angry retort, but an honest question, as if he really didn't understand why he was asking.
Rosto seems a little embarrassed at this point, eyes drifting to the floor. "Er, I mean… a good night kiss," he said, and swallowed. "Can I have one?"
Beka begins to feel a tickling inside her, like many, small, fluffy butterflies, fluttering like mad in her stomach, and a lump forms in her throat before she can answer, so she nods. Rosto places his hand at the back of her neck, fingers tracing patterns there as he pulls her closer, lips against hers, and the butterflies begin to dance a rapid masquerade. The music pounded and they were dancing wildly to it on their fast, fluffy wings.
"Rosto…" She exhales his name when he pulls away from her, not noticing that she had been holding it in. His face is still less than inches away from her, and he is still smiling his slightly wicked, slightly awkward smile. "Goodnight, Rosto." She smiles, still breathless. She doesn't want to leave him, but she knows it would be odd to the others if she did. He kisses her again, and turns her towards the door with a dashing gesture.
"Goodnight, Beka. See you tomorrow."