"What wonderfully repressed people you all are," Neal commented gleefully, looking around the room of his friends. The wine in his glass slopped over the side as he pointed. "First it was Merric, who's fancied Kel for ages but would never tell her. Then there's Dom's squad, who all think Kel's the best commander they've ever had, after Lord Raoul, but would they say that? Of course not.
"Lord Wyldon's been proud of her ever since the Grand Progress - even when she disobeyed orders! But he'd never let that slip past that Stump facade of his. Even my own cousin's got a soft spot for her, and she for him, but they've been ridiculously muleheaded about the whole thing - and that's just Kel!" he exclaimed, as the blood drained out of everyone's faces. Merric was looking anywhere but Kel. Dom's eyes were wide.
"Then there's Raoul and Buri - they spent years dancing around each other," Neal went on, taking another large swig from his wineglass, enjoying the shock on everyone's faces. "It took a Midwinter party and Kel to finally get them together! And Owen and Margarry - does my lord Wyldon know about that yet? Never mind, I suppose he will soon enough. Oh, and then there's Lady Alanna and - "
Suddenly, a very firm hand was clapped over Neal's mouth from behind. Another pair of hands clamped firmly around his arms, and he was dragged bodily from the room and down the hallway towards his room. They stopped just outside his door.
"Neal," said Kel in a very, very even voice, "if I hear another word out of you in the next twenty-four hours, it will be much too soon."
"I suggest you make yourself scarce, Meathead," Dom added, letting go of his arms. Kel removed her hand from his mouth.
"Don't argue," she warned him. "I know my lord would love to go a few rounds with you in the tilting lanes after what you just pulled. And Merric would be right after."
Neal opened his mouth to protest.
"GO," chorused Kel and Dom, shoving him forward. Neal stumbled, then made his way into his room unsteadily, using the wall to keep his balance. He couldn't seem to focus his eyes for some reason, and the hallway was swaying sickeningly. Kel and Dom followed him in.
"Don't ever let him have that many glasses of Baron George's oldest wine ever again," he heard Dom tell Kel. It occurred to Neal that he might be a little drunk.
"Believe me, I won't," was Kel's dry reply. "Keep an eye on him. We don't want him suffocating."
"We'd lose all the satisfaction of killing him then," Dom said lightly, eliciting a laugh from Kel.
That was the last thing Neal heard for quite a while.
o0o
"Good morning, my dear Meathead!" called Dom loudly. Neal cracked open an eyelid to see his cousin's grinning face inches away.
"Go 'way," Neal managed, through a mouth that tasted like copper and cotton.
"Not feeling well?" Kel inquired, pulling open the blinds. Neal shut his eyes again. His head was pounding.
"I wonder why that could be," Dom mused, pretending to be thoughtful.
"Perhaps it's because he drank Baron George's wine," Kel responded.
"Go - away," Neal grunted, sitting up slowly. Oh, his head.
"It's not our fault you got sloshed," Dom told him, utterly without sympathy.
"It's also not our fault you decided to drain every ounce of tact you ever had out your head and spill everything you'd observed about people to the room at large," Kel continued, folding her arms over her chest. "What in Mithros' name were you thinking?"
"I'm fairly certain he wasn't thinking at that point, Kel," Dom pointed out.
"I did… what?" Neal managed to interject, squinting up at the pair of them. He couldn't remember the previous night that clearly - although the bit about Baron George's wine did seem familiar.
"We knew you were observant," Dom began. "You just decided to share all those observations with everyone, and most of them were things that I think certain people would have preferred to stay quiet."
"Though not all of them were all bad," Kel was quick to point out. Dom gave her a sideways look that Neal was fairly certain was significant, but his head hurt too much for him to try and figure it out now.
"No," Dom agreed, "not all of them were bad. But I suggest laying low for the next couple of days. Not that you're really up to going anywhere right now," he added wickedly, as Neal's headache chose that moment to become a pounding migraine.
"Drink this," Kel ordered, shoving a cup something foul-smelling into his hands. "I got it from the kitchens. It'll help with the headache."
"Yes, Mother," Neal rasped.
Kel and Dom headed for the door. "Stay out of sight, Meathead," Dom called one final time, and the door closed behind them.
Neal sighed. I thought I was smarter than this… he thought, as he raised the cup to his lips.
A/N: More Neal! With a bit of Kel and Dom, just for fun. Neal's first line of dialogue is stolen from The Scorpio Races, by Maggie Stiefvater, which is an excellent book and if you haven't read it, you definitely should do. I read that line and it just popped into my head - That sounds like something Neal would say. And thus, this oneshot was born.
And I know Merric liking Kel isn't necessarily canon but I have been infected with the idea by Minuiko (go check out her Protector of the Small artwork! It's fantastic!) and now I cannot be persuaded otherwise.
I really do appreciate reviews - feedback helps me write better!