A/N: I thank all of you wonderful people who have reviewed, followed, favourited or just plain read this story. You make this writing business even better than it is on its own right.
Also, I wanted to address a thing that's popped up: I've gotten a couple of people giving me prompts for this story. I'll write the things, because who am I to say no to my fans? :D But for your knowledge, I've got the prompts covered, so you don't need to suggest them. You're free to do that if you really want, but it's not necessary.
That is all, now commence reading about Jarlaxle and Entreri.
04. Innocence
Entreri didn't like the look on Jarlaxle's face. Not in the least.
"Do we have to move from the town again?" he asked, "or will a few slit throats suffice?"
The drow looked at his companion with an obviously faked expression of surprise.
"Whatever makes you say that? Do you think we're in some kind of trouble?" Jarlaxle asked, even adding a gasp between the questions for effect. If Entreri had been prone to eye twitching, now would have been a perfect opportunity to utilize the habit. But he wasn't and he didn't.
"No, not in the least. Your 'I'm a completely innocent little elf who has nothing to do with today's events' look might work as a poker face for most people, but I've seen it too often in the right context to believe it anymore. Shall I start packing?"
Jarlaxle laughed heartily and gave a little bow, readily admitting his defeat.
"A few slit throats will suffice, my friend."
