A slap resounded through the camp of Greil's Mercenaries, still named thus even though the captain had been dead for well over a year and a half. The sound was usual enough in a camp that was mixed gendered, but it had been a long and boring day. Shinon poked his head through the tent flap, just hoping to get drawn into a fight with someone.

Instead of a rousing fist fight, Gatrie wound his way through the narrow gap between the temporary canvas establishments, a red handprint glowing on his cheek. Shinon shook his head. "Jackass," He muttered, trying to duck back into the tent without being seen.

No such luck. Gatrie shoved his way in a moment later, the gloom inside hiding the evidence of his latest perpetrated crime against womankind. He dropped onto the floor of his friend's sleeping quarters and pulled Shinon's wineskin out of its customary hiding place without even a flicker of the eyelid. Shinon sighed, stood, and began to lace the tent flap closed for an illusion of privacy. Finishing that chore, he went to the back of the tent and opened the knife slit he kept there to allow air to circulate.

"You should be a thief," Gatrie remarked, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. "Always have a bolt-hole ready, alert to any chance to run. And don't think the rest of us don't know about your D-level in swords. Just because it's not officially listed-"

"Swords are too easy," Shinon said shortly, a little offended by Gatrie's remarks. "Archery is a much harder art to master. I haven't held a sword since the day I carved my first bow. Who did you molest this time?"

"I did not molest anyone," Gatrie said with a great show of offended dignity. "I merely gave the lass a kiss. It's not my fault she plays hard to get."

"Who?" Shinon insisted.

"If you simply must know, it was the lovely red-headed-"

That was as far as he got before Shinon broke into a howling laughter. It was several minutes of choking and dark mutters from Gatrie before he could get himself under control again. "And all Titania did was slap you? I think your luck stat has increased exponentially, my friend."

Gatrie grumbled a bit, and took another swig of the booze. "Well, she was off crying about Greil again. It's not like they were married, or anything."

"No, but they banged from about the time the wife died. Everyone in camp knew it." Shinon was completely indifferent.

Gatrie noticed the indifference. "So… you've been here as long as I have, and I've yet to see you go after any of the crew. Don't even see you getting any… professional assistance when we go into a town."

Shinon shrugged. "I don't want to catch anything, and none of the girls here interest me."

"None?" Gatrie could not even conceive of anyone not finding a strong attraction to the women in the troupe.

"None," Shinon answered firmly.

"Not even Titania?"

"Not over Greil."

"Mist?"

"Too young."

"Elincia?"

"First of all," Shinon almost laughed at the suggestion, "She's kind of held up in a palace somewhere being queen. Secondly, am I refined enough to get some highborn lady in the sack?"

"Good point," Gatrie allowed. "Calill?"

"Too high maintenance."

"She is not!" Gatrie was stung. Shinon was not about to tell him that everyone knew she had only slept with the knight for a few months to get favors and presents she couldn't afford out of him.

"Lucia's all calf eyed for the queen, Mia is freakin' insane (and that means something coming from me), and Nephenee- well, she's countrified enough that I want to get rough and show her what the world's about, but then you can never get rid of those extra-virginal types once you use them." Shinon wanted to get past the awkward moment.

"Bastard," Gatrie corked the wineskin and put it back into hiding.

"I am, I really am," Shinon agreed.

"Astrid?" Gatrie asked after a moment.

"Do you really want to touch something Makalov has had?"

"Damn him!" Gatrie reached for the wineskin again. "Soren?"

"I know the little shit looks like a woman, especially in all those pictures the fangirls draw of us when we stay in a town for a while, but even then, it would be like Mist. Freakin' pedophilia."

"Tanith?"

"Probably a lesbian."

"Marcia? Nothing wrong with her!" Gatrie declaimed triumphantly.

In response, Shinon pulled the knife slit open wider, and from thee tents over, Marcia's voice could be heard yelling, "Oh, crackers, YES!"

"Crackers?"

"Precisely," Shinon said, pulling the tent canvas partially closed again.

"Who's she-"

"Better not to ask."

"Ilyana?" Gatrie asked, trying to figure- in vain- who was screwing Marcia.

"Eats like a horse."

"Jill?"

"Too high strung. And racist."

"Lethe?"

"Now I'm racist. No bestiality. Leave that to Zihark. "

"Petrine?"

"She's dead."

Gatrie sat back. "Damn, I guess your right. It's a good thing I never listen to you, or I'd never get laid again. So what do you look for in a partner?"

Shinon, right then, saw a prime opportunity that he'd never get again. "Well, it has to be someone I've known for a while. Preferably a friend."

"Right…"

"Someone close to me- the sort of person I can tell anything to."

"Makes sense…."

Looking down to hide his smile for the climax, Shinon purred. "Anything…"

"I got that," Gatrie said. "What- Oh, Goddess." The knight went pale and jumped to his feet, scrabbling backwards in the tent, falling in an undignified heap on the floor as he tripped.

"What's wrong, old friend?" Shinon slinked towards the fallen knight, his smirk easily mistakable for lust. "I've been looking for a golden opportunity to tell you some things for a while."

Gatrie gulped as Shinon began to unlace his breeches, still pacing slowly towards him. "So… is that why you don't like any of the women in this-" He froze as Shinon knelt beside him. Shinon looked him up and down, then slowly licked his lips.

That was too much for the knight. With a scream of pure terror, Gatrie ran from the tent, nearly ripping a new opening as he barely missed the tied shut tent flap. Shinon, still kneeling, called after him,

"But every night I've fantasized about your strong, capable jaw…" And then he lost it. He fell over sideways, rolling on the floor and laughing about the look of abject horror on Gatrie's face as he had fled the tent. Getting himself under control, he rose and retied his breeches, murmuring, "Guess I'll need a new drinking partner for a while."

Happy with the moment of squick he had induced, Shinon walked towards the mess tent, whistling with contentment. On the way, passing Calill, he winked.