Disclaimer: I have no legal claim or financial gain to Hellsing, Beauty and the Beast, or "Uncle Rat" by Altan.


Seras had to admit she felt very ill at ease about Rip spending time with the Wild Geese. She knew them all for so long before they met each other, but now the two groups were getting along as though they knew each other just as long. Rip was cheerful, playful, vivacious, and outgoing, much like the mercenaries. They often drank, laughed, and talked together like they had been friends for years. While Seras did not doubt Rip came in to see her, she still spent far more time with the mercenaries. This was not surprising since Seras worked hard for her pay and so did not have time to entertain Rip, but still...

Rip used to visit the old tavern to see her all the time, but there she stood out far too much as a young, unmarried, unemployed woman in an establishment meant for men. Rip had already been an outsider due to her oddities and nationality, and had no one to entertain her while Seras worked... except for Jan Valentine, who was all too eager to make the most of her presence. Poor Rip had taken a shining to him, and confused his attention with affection. This left her vulnerable to mischief, and so she stopped visiting the tavern for tragic reasons. Even when Seras complained bitterly of the Wild Geese, Rip could barely set foot outside after what happened to her, let alone the tavern.

Now, Seras was very worried about Rip's company with the Wild Geese. As she saw Rip laugh, joke, and play cards among these outwardly vulgar men, she could not help remembering how Rip had once laughed, joked, and dealt cards with other thoroughly vulgar men.

It's to Seras' credit that she never truly believed, even for an instant, that the Wild Geese would try to harm Rip. However, she still drew in a sharp beath when she saw Rip sitting so closely among them and when they acted like their rowdy selves around her.

However, when Seras tried to bring her concerns to Rip after they got home, she did not react the way she hoped.

"Why Seras, you're jealous!" Rip cried.

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are! You see me getting along with the Geese en you're jealous because you think I might take them away from you!"

"That's ridiculous! They were never mine to take, and anyway, I'm more worried about you."

"So you admit you are worried I might take the Geese from you!" Rip clapped.

"Not as scared as I am of you remembering how similar this is to another occasion..."

But Rip was exalting in her jealousy. Seras did not deny being jealous of Rip or scared she might charm away the Geese, and so Rip took it as a full confession.

"Papa! Seras is jealous of me befriending the Wild Geese!"

Old Man Winkle was tinkering at his work bench.

"Well, that's not very nice," he said over his tools.

"It's not—" Seras said, "I mean, I agree! That's why I'm not..."

"Oh Seras, it's all right! You're finally learning what it is to be human!" Rip clapped.

"I am not! That's horrible!" Seras exclaimed.

"Oh Seras, it's all right! It's natural to feel jealous when you see someone you care about getting along better with someone else. You become afraid you might lose them, just as I feared losing you when you became friends with the Wild Geese!"

"Rip, I won't have any reason to worry once you remember how similar this is to when you used to sit among Jan's cohorts back at the old town."

This sobered Rip. She had not thought of that. She had been so starstruck by Jan because he seemed so handsome, fun, free, and uninhibited just like her. She had thought he wanted her to sit in his lap, play cards, and yes, even grope her because he liked her. She had even taken his brother's invitation to come over for tea as a sign that things were going well. Seras would have gone too except she had to work, and she had begged Rip not to go without someone with her. But Rip, who knew better, was in raptures over the invitation and literally frolicked over to their house at the edge of town. What happened next was a nightmare neither of them wanted to revisit, and Rip had sobbed inconsolably for weeks after over what a fool she had been.

"Well, the Wild Geese are not like that," she said, but she trembled as she said it.

"Rip Van, I don't want to ruin your fun, but it's dangerous," Seras said earnestly.

"What? You really think the Geese would do what he did, even after he saved you?"

"He" being Jan, and "he" being Pip.

"Of course not, dearest heart, but I just worry about you..."

"Well, I'm not worried a bit!" Rip exclaimed, with a swish of her long black hair like a horse swishing its tail at a fly. "You waste your time worrying about me, because I'm not a frightened little child that gets spooked too easily."

"Rip Van, I never said that..." Seras pleaded, but it was too late.

Like a proud child that had been called a scaredy-cat or a chicken, Rip now felt compelled to show her bravery by continuing to do what she wanted.

They had something even more silly to laugh about when she came to work that night and Rip back to the card table, because when the time was right she invited Seras to join them. It was a slow night, most chores were done, and Seras was idle enough that the owner would not strongly object to her sitting down for a few minutes.

"Seras! Come join us!"

"Non merci," Seras said as she walked by. "You all seem quite content on your own."

"Non, you must assist me!" Rip whined, and continued dramatically. "These horridly bullying mercenaries have been ganging up on poor little ol' me, robbing me blind with cards, en leaving me destitute en disgraced. What's a poor lady like me to do?"

"Stop playing at cards?"

"Non!" Rip cried dramatically, with an arm over her face. "I am but a single young maiden fair, outwitted en outmatched against these boorish ruffians that would use me so cruelly…"

"We have?" one of the Geese asked.

"Hush, I'm trying to reel her in," Rip hissed, and then continued as dramatically: "A single maiden was never meant to tread alone men's territory unaccompanied. You simply MUST accompany me so that I may have a steady friend to assist me as I deal with these vulgar men!"

Seras might have been disturbed at her choice of words had she not been laying it on thick.

She grinned. "You seemed to have been having a great deal of fun before now."

They'd been laughing and joking all evening, and Rip had laughed along with them, even when she lost.

"You must come en play cards at once!" Rip snapped.

Soon the mercenaries were ushering her over too.

"Oui, come on, cher!" they cried.

"Live a little!"

But no amount of wheedling or cajoling could get Seras to sit down. She seemed like she considered it at one point, then she saw their captain looking at her and immediately set off. No one could call her back, so instead they teased her.

Of course Rip continued to sit, drink, and laugh among the Geese as before, but there was a difference in her air and manner now. While she was still outwardly friendly and engaging, she trembled slightly when she was around them. Of course, Rip hid her trembling by making her voice and movements more flamboyant and theatrical. She made grand sweeps of her arms, dramatic sighs and exclamations with her voice, etc. In a way, she overcompensated her nervousness by being even more friendly, lively, and engaging. Quite the opposite of Seras, who used to overcompensate her nervousness and tried to hide her quivering from the Geese by being more serious, solemn, glaring, and driven. Seras would walk that much faster, glare than much harder, and serve that much faster to keep it well-hidden.

Unfortunately, Rip did not have the self-possession Seras did, and the Wild Geese inevitably became rowdier, as they would.

Rip started having nightmares again days before she acknowledged it consciously. She cried and twitched in her sleep, and sometimes woke sobbing. She always woke Seras before that point, who would try to pet and sooth the fear and pain away. To the Geese, Rip remained friendly and obliging so they did not suspect, but at one point it got too much and she had to leave the table to go into the backroom, where she sobbed and sobbed and couldn't stop.

Seras held her and rubbed her back through the whole thing, feeling powerless of what to say to make it better.

She later explained that Rip was taken very ill and simply couldn't leave her home for a while. Seras thought it was a good enough story. Rip could spend some time away from society, then could be more reserved toward the Geese without anyone suspecting since they could say she was just recovering from her illness, then get into the habit of more reserved interactions without offending.

"It's because she used to spend time like this with Jan, right?" one of the Geese said.

Seras dropped her tray.

She barely seemed to hear as the tavern keeper scolded her. She just stood and stared.

"What?" she said blankly.

The captain lit a cigarette nonchalantly, took a deep drag and said, "It's because of what the Valentine Brothers did, isn't it?"

"... How could you know that?" she asked vaguely.

The men sniggered.

"Come on, leanbh, give us a little more credit than that," one of the Geese said.

"People talked in the last town. It was hard not to hear what happened."

People talked... of course. Seras sighed and placed her head in her hands.

"So you know they said it was her fault," Seras said.

"They said she wanted to fuck him," one helpful soul said.

"No, they said she made the whole thing up to get attention."

"Really? I heard she lay with him willingly then claimed he took her by force after."

"So did I!"

"OY!" Pip snapped.

"What is it, Captain?" one of the men started to ask, then they noticed Seras' face.

Right away, they knew they'd fucked up. This was already a painful subject about a beloved friend, and they'd gone and twisted the knife by mindlessly parroting all the horrible things the last town had said about Rip after someone did something terrible to her. Seras looked absolutely frozen and transported by pain and horror, and tears were leaking out her eyes.

"Erm..." the men were very contrite. "S-sorry."

"I... it's all right. You didn't do it," Seras said, and she hastily wiped her eyes.

What a different song she sang from several weeks before!

"For what it's worth, we don't believe it," one of them said.

"Believe what?"

"Believe a snake like that could 'ave gotten a girl like Rip without having to force her," one of them grinned.

"Daryl!" Captain Bernadotte snapped.

"What?"

Not big on tact or sensitivity, that one.

Seras let out a strangled laugh though. "Well... it means a lot that you do."

"Will she be all right?" one of the men asked.

"She just needs time to herself," Seras smiled as she cleared some plates. "She'll be back to play some time later."

"All right!" one of the men cheered.

His neighbor whacked him on the chest.

When a few more of his fellows glared at him, he cleared his throat and said, "Uh, I mean... whenever she's ready."

Seras grinned and walked off.

It was such a sore and tragic topic for both Seras and Rip Van Winkle. It wasn't something they felt comfortable talking about even with each other, let alone people who hadn't been there; let alone a bunch of drunken, obnoxious, amorous, carefree men that always thought it funny to sexually harass Seras every chance they got. Seras would never forget how she got a letter informing her she needed to come to pick up her friend, nor what her face looked like when she when she found her huddled in the shadows in the middle of the night. Rip had been completely devastated, crying and sobbing uncontrollably with nothing but a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and Seras could only help gather her up and walk her back to her home.

Seras had been deeply saddened and helplessly furious. She had confronted Jan and Luke about the assault soon after, who only laughed her off. Rip soon came forward to the town, but they took the Valentine Brothers' side, which drove her further into isolation. It was also because of that affair that the Winkles decided they could no longer stay in that town, and they made preparations to move soon after. Seras had been deeply saddened to see them go, but happy that they got away from this town that was so cruel to them, and from then on she did not have a single kind word or smile for the Valentine Brothers.

And, shortly after this, the Wild Geese arrived.

Presently, Seras continued working at her shift and then, when most of the Geese had gone to bed or wandered off to the small houses they were quartered in, they surprised Seras by collectively ordering and asking Seras to send home a bottle of Rip's favorite wine to make her feel better.

Seras was so shocked that she stared at it mutely and nodded.

When she brought it home to Rip, she started crying for a different reason.

"Th-they're such," she hiccuped, "They're such good men."

Seras did not disagree.

"How are you not in love with the captain?"

Seras' smile dropped into a frown.

'Clearly she's not THAT devastated.'

"Seriously? Why?"

"You can barely stay in the same room as a troop of men and you ask me why I don't want to marry one?"

"Marriage is different!"

"No it's not! It's even worse. I would have to go home to him," Seras shuddered.

Seras saw what slobs they were in the tavern. She often had to clean up after them in the tavern. When she went to sleep after a long day of toil, she was often relieved to find her small, dark room was just as clean and quiet as she left it. She could crawl into bed and enjoy the sweet silence and solitude (no drunken laughter, no loud chatter, just her and the realm of sleep), knowing all of her things would be exactly where she left them. Having her clean, quiet, sacred space invaded and trashed by some large, hairy slob that drank and ate excessively, that left bottles everywhere, that left a sty for her to clean up, who waited for her in her bed, grinning invitingly...

Seras shuddered and walked away.

"Yes, as husband and wife!" Rip cried.

"And all that entails - I'm boiling you some water."

Seras' answer to every stressful situation was to boil water for tea.

"But it's different when you're married because you're bound together in body and soul!"

"And do you think that's any less revolting than being bound to a man without marriage?"

"Not if you truly love each other!" was the almost naïve reply.

"Which we don't, so you're wasting your breath."

"Seras!"

"No!" Seras cried, and turned around. "How can you even ask that after all you've been through?"

"It's not the same! Once you're married, all worries en secrets between you go away!" she said cheerfully.

Seras stared.

Sometimes, Rip could be wise beyond her years. Other times, she could be almost painfully, childishly naïve.

Even Seras, who was described as childish and naïve almost every day, had no idea what to say.

"Come on, Seras! What's it going to take for you to admit your love for Captain Bernadotte!"

"What?!" Seras whirled around, "It won't, since I don't! Stop talking about it!"

"Come on, Seras!"

"No!"

Rip Van Winkle recovered quickly enough and soon rejoined the men at the tavern. She was a little more subdued than before though. While she was still girlish, friendly, lively, and engaging, she was not as physically close with them as before. Where before she often sat at crowded tables among them, now she sat almost apart from them, at the edges of tables or at the counters. She was not unfriendly about it though.

Rip Van Winkle was just as fun and engaging in conversation with the men as before, and now, in some ways, even more charming about it. She moved in an almost detached and whimsical sort of way. She still talked and laughed sometimes avoided eye contact by swishing her hair and smiling toward the ceiling. She did not often stay in one place and moved about in a graceful, sweeping way as she chose her next seat or went to talk to her next fortune-patron. Sometimes she danced around the tavern to avoid sitting with the men, but moved so gracefully around that no one complained.

If the conversation made Rip Van Winkle too nervous, she hid it very well by breaking into song. She often sang whatever verses applied to whatever situation anyway, and break out into song whenever she heard the fiddlers play a tune she knew the perfect ditty for, so this was nothing unusual.

The men often begged Seras to sing more Irish songs, ever since they heard her sing Aisling's lullaby. Seras often said she didn't know any more Irish songs, and so avoided having to do it again. Rip Van Winkle, who had no such inhibitions, took the opportunity to sing her own. When the men were too rowdy and she started to feel nervous, she exclaimed cheerfully that things were getting "ever so droll, en why don't we have some music!"

A person's taste in music can say so much about them as individuals. While the men loved songs about drinking and women, and Seras loved songs that decried war and men, Rip loved songs that were perfect nonsense. She already adored fables, folk stories, fairy tales, and nursery rhymes. Fairy tales and nursery rhymes, by their very nature, often made little sense. For Rip, the stranger the better.

She did not disappoint one night when the men's rambunctiousness made her rather uncomfortable, and they called for Seras to sing an Irish song. Rip then exclaimed cheerfully that she knew one, and she direct the fiddler to play the right tune. It was a very cheerful and lively ditty, but also rather graceful and rollicking. It's the type of music you can see young women in white dresses and flowers frolicking in the field to. And as it took of, Rip sang in a soft but cheerful and rollicking voice:

Uncle Rat went out to ride
Kitty alone, Kitty alone
Uncle Rat went out to ride
Kitty alone and I
Uncle Rat went out to ride
Sword and buckle by his side
Ma cax macari duck and a dil
Kitty alone and I

It was the type of song one bops their head or claps their hands to. Soon most of the tavern was smiling and listening, clapping and nodding along. The music soon made its way to Rip Van's fingers and toes and she swayed and danced as she sang. When Rip spotted Seras, who walked by with her orders of drinks, she went up to her.

Lady Mouse, will marry me?
Kitty alone, Kitty alone
Lady Mouse, will marry me?
Kitty alone and I
Lady Mouse, will marry me?
"Ask my Uncle Rat," says she
Ma cax macari duck and a dil
Kitty alone and I

Rip Van stood before and directed the verses at Seras as she sang, with a big smile upon her face and her hands clasped innocently behind her back, so that the men laughed. Seras looked startled and confused, and tried to walk away. Of course Rip followed her, frolicking and twirling around Seras as she sang "Lady Mouse, will marry me?" At the last "Kitty alone and I," she took Seras' hands, spun her around, then tore away to dance on her own.

The fiddler then played a very lively solo that Rip danced an almost Irish-like dance to. By now, all eyes in were on her, and all lips were smiles and all hands were clapping. One of the men tried to tell her "This is how a REAL Irishman does it," but he was in terrible shape from months of sitting around drinking. Besides, most of them had never formally learned either. He soon flailed around like a stiff log, causing all his fellows to laugh and laugh.

"Oh yeah, you're a 'real Irishman!'"

"You're Irish and you don't even know the steps to your own dance!"

Soon the fiddler came to the singing tune, and Rip grinned and stole over to their captain.

Uncle Rat, will you marry Lady Mouse?
Kitty alone, Kitty alone
Uncle Rat, will you marry Lady Mouse?
Kitty alone and I
Uncle Rat, will you marry Lady Mouse?
"Yes, kind sir, and half me house"
Ma cax macari duck and a dil
Kitty alone and I

She bopped her head and tapped her foot as she sang, and she smiled widely as they both looked upon Seras. She was smiling prettily but still working diligently, yet as soon as she saw what Rip was up to, she looked greatly concerted, ay. At the final verse of "Uncle Rat, will you marry Lady Mouse?" Rip tore away to dance and sing to the rest of the tavern, but by then she accomplished what she wished.

The song was getting extremely lively at this point. There was barely a single head not bopping, hands not clapping, grin not grinning. In the excitement, Rip rushed over to Seras and leaned over so her lips were near her ear, like a young girl leaning in to collect on gossip. She did so in a very theatrical way with her eyes on the audience, so they laughed at how silly they looked.

Lady Mouse, where will the wedding be?
Kitty alone, Kitty alone
Lady Mouse, where will the wedding be?
Kitty alone and I
Lady Mouse, where will the wedding be?
"Ask my Uncle Rat," says she
Ma cax macari duck and a dil
Kitty alone and I

By now, the song was so lively and the mood so joyous it was impossible not to smile. Seras still rolled her eyes and tried to walk away (though with a bemused smile), to which Rip merely turned to the audience and with a shrug sang, " 'Ask my Unckle Rat,' says she." And then Rip had continued to sing as happily as before, for nothing could bother her where cheerful folk songs were concerned.

After Rip finished the verse, the fiddler tore into another solo, to which the men in the tavern clapped and danced. Rip Van took Seras by the hands and pulled her in to dance along. While Seras smiled wryly from Rip's obvious ploy, she found it impossible even for her not to have fun, and soon she smiled and danced right along back. The men cheered and clapped and stomped their feet to the rhythm of the music, and some even got up to dance with the nearest lady to them.

By the end Rip Van came between Seras and Pip and gestured between them as she sang the final verse:

Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be?
Kitty alone, Kitty alone
Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be?
Kitty alone and I
Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be?
"Up at the top of a holly tree"
Ma cax macari duck and a dil
Kitty alone and I

The verses seemed mostly directed at Pip when she sang, "Uncle Rat, where will the wedding be?" and she gestured to Seras when she sang "Kitty alone, Kitty alone," and when she got to the verse, "Kitty alone and I," she gestured to Seras and herself. She did so very theatrically and exaggeratedly though, so it looked very silly and comedic, so most men in the tavern could take it as a funny show. When she reached the verse, "Up at the top of a holly tree," she pressed her back against Seras' so that Rip's own tall stature and long, flowing black hair brushed against her. She then tore away and sang the last verses to the entire tavern, and held Seras' hands and swung around as she sang: "Kitty alone and I."

The music then wound down and came to a close, and Rip embraced Seras as it did.

The tavern erupted with cheers and applause. There were cries for more, encores, and so on. Rip laughed and smiled and basked in her glory.

The men loved the whole thing, though Pip's eye was one Seras. He had never seen her have so much fun. The way she laughed and smiled, the way her eyes lit up when she was happy, the way her cheeks flushed with exertion, and the way she clapped and looked around with joy at all the men she normally rarely smiled at... it was wonderful.

The rest of the night continued in happy songs, and the girls went home happy.

Of course Rip used Seras' increased good will with the Geese to try to get them to agree to spend more time together, and got shot down for it. One night at home Rip placed a log in the fire, while Seras sat reading a book via firelight, and Rip brought up the subject of joining them for cards later.

"Non merci, but thank you very much," she said the next night.

"Come now! You must play!"

"The cards are Devil's games, and besides, I can't afford to lose any money."

"Come now, it's not so bad! Some card games aren't even about money, just the fun of it!"

"And how fun it looks," Seras said insincerely, without looking up from her book.

"Exactly! That's why you must give it a chance!"

"No, I mustn't," Seras said simply, and that was that.

Rip Van Winkle groaned and sunk her face into the pillows dramatically.

"Oh Seras, why do you make things so difficult for me?" she lamented.

"I don't know, why do you keep pushing me?" Seras asked, with some surprise.

"Because I want to see you happily settled down!"

"With those louts? Not likely."

"Come on, Seras!" she whined, "I want to see you happy!"

"I am happy," Seras said, surprised.

"LIES!"

"It's true!"

"Lies en deceit!"

"Rip Van Winkle!"

"Shameless lies en treacherous deceit!"

"For what? Saying I'm happy staying with you?"

"A wretched affront to the integrity of Truth!"

"You don't think I actually like living here with you?"

"You shall be brought before the Holy Father to have your character inspected for the dread blot on which the lie of happiness and contentment stained it!"

"I don't want to know anymore."

"She's getting into one of her tirades. It's better to just wait it out," Old Man Winkle said from his work bench.

"Do not deny it, Seras! You have not been totally honest this evening en the world shall know of it!"

"I give up. Have fun waxing poetic justice, I'm going to sleep."

"You cannot hide from the Truth, Seras!"

"Good night, Rip Van Winkle."

Just as Seras was not one to stay down for long, Rip was not one to stay sad forever. Over the next few days she recovered, and soon was back into cheerful spirits. She was friendly, lively, and sociable, as usual.

One rare day with sun poking through the clouds, the two girls headed home after buying fabric in town. Rip held a handful of long ribbons of various materials and colors, while Seras carried some folded dress cloth in her arms. On their way, they came across several Wild Geese and their captain.

"Good day, ladies!" Captain Bernadotte called.

"Mr. Bernadotte! How do you like my ribbons for the ball?" Rip cried merrily, frolicking around Seras with the handful of ribbons trailing behind her.

He laughed, "They're very beautiful!"

"She is! Look at her, she's blooming!" Rip cried, and nudged Seras from behind.

Seras gasped, blushed, and whirled around. The Geese laughed themselves a fit to die.

"Rip Van!" she chastised, but Rip was back to frolicking merrily around like a little girl.

"You'll be sure to stay in town until after the Christmas festival, won't you?" Rip inquired. "It will be ever so much fun!"

"If my superiors will it, we shall definitely stay," Pip grinned.

"Good! And we shall set up plenty of mistletoe in the tavern for Seras!" Rip cried.

"WHAT?!" Seras barked, her teeth pointed and her face a healthy pink.

"Deal!" Pip cried, and they all laughed.

"Rip Van! You can't just invite me out like that!" Seras snarled.

"But she could walk around the mistletoe!" one of the Geese called.

"Good point, good point," said another.

"No problem!" Rip cried. "We'll just hang some over the serving counter so she'll have no choice but to go under it."

"Oo-la-la!"

"Good point, good point!"

Pip made a kissy face at Seras.

"I'M LEAVING!" Seras screeched, and stormed away in a huff.

"Be sure to attend!" Rip cried cheerfully, then ran after Seras.

It was fun watching them walk away. Rip tried to place an arm around her waist, but Seras shrugged her off.

"Come now, Seras! You know it will be fun!"

"Don't talk to me!"

The Wild Geese snickered as they watched them retreat.

Pip found it as amusing as anyone else, but somewhere inside he was a little disappointed by her continued distance toward him. Not to be mistaken, he still found her delightfully cute and funny, and still loved teasing her as much as before. He still looked forward to seeing her so he could get a rise out of her, and still loved the adorable way she would blush and sputter.

But still… on some level he was a little disappointed it was still the only way she reacted to him. She still treated him like a stranger at best, an annoyance at worst. She constantly blushed, looked away and quieted down when she saw him, and still only reacted irritably at everything he said. At first he took it as a good sign, but she always seemed to withdraw and rebuke every attempt he made to get closer for it. Not that he complained too much, but… he had saved her from a terrible fate after she had said he was nothing but a monster. Wasn't that enough to prove that he wasn't? He had volunteered to escort her to the village when he saw that she was to travel, and got her there safely. Didn't that prove that she could trust him with her well-being? He had even curbed his jokes toward her. And she was still short and distant with him.

"Oh, she's just shy and modest," Rip said cheerfully, as they talked one night at the tavern.

"You'd think she'd get over it by now," Pip said.

"Well, wouldn't you still feel a little meek around soldiers if your family was slaughtered by them?"

Pip's eye widened. "She what?!"

His earlier thoughts and bitterness were completely forgotten; shattered like ice to this stunning blow.

"Oh!" Rip cried, placed her fingertips over her lips. "My God... but I shouldn't have said a word!"

She smiled as she said this.

"You don't seem particularly guilty about it," Pip frowned.

"Well, she doesn't exactly keep it a very good secret," Rip said. "En of course, I didn't say it on purpose! She knows I would never say anything about her to anyone if I could help it. But now, since it's slipped out, there's no taking it back. Not that it matters any. While she refuses to tell anyone out loud, she's so obvious about her fear and discomfort that it's easy for anyone to guess."

"I never guessed," Pip said.

"Well, I guess you haven't watched closely enough."

The flippant way she said it annoyed him more than anything else.

"Now, hold on-!" Pip snapped.

"En you call yourself a commanding officer that got his job by his ability to read people," Rip tutted. "You really missed the mark on this one!"

"Look here, I guessed she lost so much from soldiers, but-!"

"Not so loud!" Rip chastised.

"But…" Pip said much more quietly, "her whole family?"

"Every last one," Rip said blunted. "She's all that's left."

Pip was dumbstruck.

"And that's not even getting into what she endured after she came to this country!" Rip giggled.

"There's more?" Pip exclaimed.

"Of course! What, you mean you didn't know?" Rip asked incredulously. "You didn't guess? Why do you think she's all the way out here? In this new country? Without any family or lord to serve? In no hurry to return to her own country?"

Pip looked at Seras as she served other men. She bustled around with a large smile on her face, as she always did when she served someone besides the Wild Geese. She always seemed so sunny and cheerful as she served patrons. A rare ray of light in these dark establishments. She was more subdued whenever she served the Wild Geese, but nothing significant. Just looking at her, one would never guess she was the last survivor of her family's massacre... or, perhaps, another.

"You'd think she might have said something," Pip said as he watched Seras smile warmly as she refilled another man's tankard.

Rip giggled, "You can ask her yourself." Then she thought of something, and said, "Only you mustn't tell her I said anything, she told me not to tell!"

"Why would she keep it such a big secret?"

Rip giggled, "And why would she tell you?"

"We've been through enough now that I think I've earned her trust," Pip frowned.

Rip giggled. "Ja, only recently after many months of degrading comments and advances!"

"I was just teasing."

"Oh, were you, now?" Rip grinned. "You were only teasing when you called her every nasty name for her gender en nationality? Never meant to keep grabbing at her even when she made it clear she hated every minute of it, fled every time she could get away with it, en ran from other men for lesser offenses when she was not forced with fear of destitution to stay with them, as her employers forced her to put up with you?"

"She could have left if she wanted…"

"Oh really? She could have chosen to quit her job en be destitute, forced to live off the charity of any who might provide her livelihood, be it alms for a poor girl or a job for a wondering maiden desperately needing livelihood. She could choose to let you continue to harass and degrade her or choose destitution. Now that's fair."

"Now hold on..."

"And with all that, you think you have earned her trust-?"

"I have!" Pip shouted angrily.

If getting beaten into a bloody, broken, fleshy scarecrow did not count as earning trust, he didn't know what was!

"… To listen, without mocking or judging?"

This hit home for Pip in a way few to no comments ever could. Listen without mocking or judging…

After a silence, Rip said, "Seras holds her cards very close to her chest for a reason, Mr. Bernadotte."

Pip saw how she smiled as she walked, pouring drinks and clearing plates as she went around. He remembered all the times she looked sad or scared, and how she visibly tried to hide it, wove a smile back on her face, bustled about cheerfully, how she turned away when asked further about herself.

"How am I supposed to know if she won't show me?"

"She won't show because she thinks she has a losing hand," Rip said carelessly. "Don't you see? If you just show her it's okay to play her hand even if she thinks she'll lose, en explain how en why she has a winning hand, she'll start to gain confidence en not be so afraid to show her cards, or play the game, in the future."

Her words made sense to Pip. Finally, someone explained it in terms he was familiar with!

"I never meant anything by it."

Rip smirked. "Not after the first several weeks, no."

Seras and Pip just ripped into each other in those days.

"Hey, she was just as hostile back then."

"Must I explain this again?" Rip sighed.

It turns out, she did.

"I was just teasing," he said, to the accusation that he started it by trying to grope her, getting mad at her for defending herself, then getting even with her for weeks after by lording his power over her.

"Teasing, you say?" Rip said in mock-curiosity. "Even when she made it clear she did not like what you were doing, en you kept doing it anyway? Even when you saw her react just the same to other men who tried the same with her? You saw it caused her distress en kept doing it just the same, yet SHE is the one that is closed-minded en insensitive for saying you're a soldier like the ones in her past?"

"You've got it all wrong...!" he began.

"Stop it, Bernadotte!" Rip hissed.

She then smirked mischievously and said: "Seras Victoria is not half so self-important as you sometimes."

She then daintily took a sip of her wine, giggled, then turned away to talk cheerfully among other Geese.

Pip was quieted into silence. He didn't realize…

Pip looked over at Seras, and saw her in a new light.

Pip approached her sometime later without even thinking about it. He had wanted to say something snappy, but as he drew closer and saw how beautiful, sunny, and cheerful she looked, passing out drinks and smiles like she had never experienced a tragedy in her life, he found himself unable to find words for the third time in his. The first time was as he first saw her as he saw her approach in the market, and the second was when he overheard her confess her dearest wish after she had turned down Luke Valentine.

Now he half-consciously approached her, and she looked up at him curiously with those big, beautiful eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

I don't know, he thought, I think I'm in love.

He didn't say this aloud though, couldn't even if he wanted to.

She frowned and waved her hand in front of his face. "Are you ill? I can get medicine for you."

It was an awkward and humiliating situation to be in. She was so beautiful. Such a wonderful girl. He couldn't think of what to say, and he was acutely aware that she was staring at him, as well as his men. He could think of only one way to save this.

"Nah, I think I know what kind of medicine I need," he grinned.

His men leaned forward with eager grins.

"And that is...?"

He did the only thing he wanted to do: he leaned in to kiss her.

At the last second, she pulled away.

"EWWW!"

Right on cue.

"EW! UGH! What-?! Bleh!" Seras exclaimed, spitting and wiping her mouth.

His men roared with laughter, every single one of them.

"VERY FUNNY!" Seras screeched.

"Oh, cher, I think I'm coming down with something too!" one of the men exclaimed.

"Me too! I think I need some of that 'medicine' from you!" exclaimed another, and he puckered his lips.

"And me!"

"And me!"

"And me!"

"And moi~!"

Seras' face had turned red during this, then she suddenly exclaimed: "BLOODY PERVERTS, ALL OF YOU!"

They all snickered, and laughed.

Pip watched in amusement as Seras hissed and spat like an angry cat, while they just laughed good-naturedly

So he came away unscathed. Seras wrote it off as just another trick. His men wrote it off as just another joke.

God, what was wrong with him?

He had been a good communicator most of his life. He had risen in the ranks due to his skill in combat and his ability to read and lead his men. He could rouse even the most downtrodden soldier into embracing a second wind to mow down enemy lines, just with a few well-chosen words. He could seduce even the most pious and self-righteous girl with a few pretty words and charming smiles. He had seduced hundreds of women on charm alone; never mind all the others who accepted petty cash.

And here he was, standing before a single pretty girl who was neither pious nor self-righteous, yet he could not approach her. She was just her. Going about her life trying to make ends meet like anyone else. Her experiences were her own; she did not share them. Her thoughts were her own; he could not sway them. Her soul was her own; he could not reach her.

She thought he said and did all those things because he liked to degrade her. Did it never occur to her that he did it because he never knew what to say?

Rip Van Winkle seemed to suspect it, and that's just was unnerved him about her. In fact, many things about Rip Van Winkle unsettled Pip Bernadotte. She could be so friendly, engaging, vivacious, and outgoing one second, and then cold and cruel the next. One moment she could be talking nonsense, then the next she could say something so sharp she verbally ripped into the other person, then go back to being smiley and giddy again. Her words rang with Madness and Truth. Sometimes together, sometimes interchangeably.

Still, he liked her on the whole. Particularly since she gave away information about Seras that she would never share with them.

"When I first met Seras..." Rip Van Winkle said thoughtfully. "She had just arrived in town one day, nearly dead from hunger en want of sleep. It was a cold winter's day, with wind whistling en snow covering the ground. She wandered into our town, sickly grey from cold en hunger, en so thin you could see her bones clearly under her ratty clothes. Her dress was coarse en tattered, frayed en dirty. She had smeared dirt on her face, as she had obviously used snow to try to brush it away..."

"Were you actually there for this?" one of the Geese asked.

"Nein, but the men who were there wove a wonderful story!"

"Ma cher, could you get over here and tell us how this story really happened?" Captain Bernadotte called.

"Nein! She can't tell this story half as well. Sit down, I'll tell you the rest right now. Seras, mijn liefje, could you tell them the story is real?"

"Are you telling them how I came to the last town?" Seras asked as she walked by.

"Yes! Don't interrupt!"

"All right," she said as she served a plate to one of the men and kept walking.

"So there she was, dirt-caked en bone-thin. Her hair was wild, what little skin seen under the dirt a sickly grey, and her clothes frayed en torn - and her hem! - up to her knees in mud. She looked positively medieval! Nein, in fact, she looked sickly en pathetic. Everyone thought she was pitiful, or crazy, or both. What self-respecting young lady wanders around alone, all caked in mud en tatters en wobbling about?

"En so she came to the tavern, where she saw people eat en drink en she saw young women like her serving drinks in the nice warm glow of the fire, en she walked up to the tavern-keeper en she said: j'ai besoin d'emploi, s'il vous plaît. 'I need a job, please!' She just kept saying that. She knew almost no French, but she knew enough to ask for a job. En ask she did.

"The tavern-keeper? He was furious. He knew a foreign girl when he saw one - her accent slipped into her words, even then, en he got right up en he said they don't allow her kind here. But she just kept saying 'j'ai besoin d'emploi! j'ai besoin d'emploi!' En he kept telling her 'Non.' He kept trying to shoo her out. He kept telling her they needed no help en would never take on her kind anyway, en other nasty things. But she didn't understand any of that. She knew enough to know he was trying to make her leave, but she was desperate. She was going to stay.

Rip Van paused. "I think she must have been in a desperate place, to beg for work where she knew there were many men drinking."

"I was," Seras said. Rip glared. "Not that it matters what I remember, but I was turned down for many jobs before that day. The dairy farmer set the bull on me when I asked to milk cows. One little farm woman said she would take me as a house keeper then her husband tried to take me before day's end. The widow..."

"Excuse me, who's telling the story here?" Rip said.

"Oh, pardon, carry on," and she walked away.

The Geese gestured wildly for Seras not to go. They wanted to know what really happened, darn it!

"So he kept trying to force her out, and she kept saying 'J'ei Besoin! J'ei Besoin! Besoin d'emploi! Besoin d'emploi!' How could he refuse? He tried to get rid of her by taking her to the back where they kept the pigs. He tried to give her the most dirty, the most difficult job they had, and work her to her very bones, till she breathed her last... breath..."

"It was grueling all right," Seras agreed as she walked by.

"But no matter what he did, Seras stayed around! Did she quit because it was too hard? No sir! He made her clean and slop the pigs in back, he made her lift heavy crates in the seller, he made her clear out the rats en bugs in the kitchen, he made her scrub harder en work longer than any other. At first he only let her sleep in the pig pen outside, then the storage shed, en then the back room. Anywhere she was not a bother, where it was only marginally better than outside. En he paid her nothing, either. Remember this was back when England and France were still enemies..."

"There was a war going on, I recall," said one of them.

"Exactly! So if he wasn't going to get rid of the 'Protestant Sow,' as he called her, he was going to wring every drop of work he could out of her, with the least cost to himself. He gave her the hardest work, gave her the scantest table scraps, made her sleep with 'the other sows where she belonged,' and on and on and on."

"God, how could you stand it?" one of the men asked Seras.

Seras shrugged. "I didn't have much of a choice. It was either that or the open road, where I would starve or freeze to death, get accosted by soldiers on the move, or all."

"How did you get out of it?" one of the men asked.

While the Bouviers were rude and unfair to Seras, she was hardly a starving wretch forced to live on scraps and sleep with the pigs. She had her own room upstairs, for crying out loud!

Seras shrugged and went to speak, but Rip piped in, "Because she eventually proved herself with her good work ethic! No matter how many grueling, unfair, uneasy jobs he threw at her, she never complained en never tried to shirk her work. She did more in one hour than most of the girls did in a whole day, en still more besides. They eventually realized it was in their best interest to give her more food en shelter so she could work more, while their profits still rose from her work while they did not have to pay her a fraction of what they paid the others."

"Slave labor," said one of the Geese.

Seras shrugged. "It was that, or the open road."

"Why didn't you just go back to England?"

"Why don't you just give me the money so I can afford it?" she asked, with her hand outstretched.

His hand flew over his coin purse, and that was the end of that conversation.

"So wait, you were really grey and ugly?" one of the men asked.

He knew how to ask the important questions, that one.

"Who's telling the story here?!" Rip demanded.

"Stage hog," Seras grumbled.

"I heard that!"

"Wow," one of the Geese said to Seras, "I can't imagine you had any trouble with men back then!"

"You'd... be surprised," Seras grimaced, and walked away.

"But she was that ugly though," Rip grinned. "She was thin en sickly pale for years. Always with big bags under her eyes, en a slouch in her back because she was always too tired en hungry stand straight. In fact, she didn't 'bloom' into a pretty maiden until... a season before you arrived. Over spring she just bloomed like the flowers! Her cheeks finally flushed with color, her flesh filled out over her bones, her breasts filled out her bodice, en so on..."

"So... wait," one of the men said. "When Luke Valentine said he wanted her from the first moment he saw her...?"

"He was lying through his teeth!" Rip exclaimed cheerfully. "Or rather, he may have believed himself, but he never noticed her until after she became pretty. In fact, I saw the way he treated her back when she was ugly. He barely noticed her. He had eyes for everyone that fawned over him - the pretty 'bimbettes,' the men that licked his boots every step he walked, en so on. Seras? If she so much as brushed passed him, he scowled en brushed her away."

"Wow..." Captain Bernadotte said.

"That shallow bastard!" one of the other men said.

For all his shameless, pompous self-flattery over how "from the first moment he laid eyes on her, he knew her to be a girl worth pursuing" or "he singled her out as the mother of his future children," and so on; he had been so repulsed by her haggard appearance and treated her as less than a person for years.

"Indeed!" Rip cried. "He did not even know she existed until she became pretty."

"Would that he never noticed," Seras grimaced.

"Oy, come on, at least it worked out," one of the Geese said.

"Oui. If you never became pretty, we never would have gotten to see you like this."

"All the more reason!" Seras retorted.

They laughed.

"So... how did you actually meet Seras?" one of the Geese asked Rip.

"Oh! Right. Well, she worked at the tavern that my dear papa sometimes visited. He came to the tavern one day very distressed, because our pig escaped en we needed it to last us a whole season. He came in begging for help finding it, en the men, they said, 'All right, Old Man, we'll help you out.' En they did just that... they helped him out of the tavern en fall face-first into the snow."

"For shame," said one of the men.

Another tutted.

"En Seras, she was just starting to work in front at that time, en she saw what happened, en she snuck out first thing en helped my papa out of the snow, en she held his arm en helped him walk back home."

"Let me guess," said the captain, "You were there waiting for them."

"Indeed!" Rip clapped, "But I did not expect to see him back so soon, nor with one he did. I expected groups of men to help find the pig, or at least come by himself if they said 'Non.' Not hanging off the arm of the dirty foreign girl that scrubbed floors at the tavern, about ready to pass out from cold. But she was there, en she was the only one that helped my poor papa."

"So you became fast friends?"

"But of course!" Rip cried, "A girl willing to help a poor old man even though he is funny and foreign, and at the risk her own job, even though it would be safer to stay with the crowd? A girl like that is worth her weight in gold, en we have been friends ever since!" Rip exclaimed, and wrapped her arms around Seras' neck.

This gave the Wild Geese food for thought… and other things.

"You men are so shallow!" Rip Van exclaimed. "You always talk about finding a pretty girl to spend the night. Flit! Flit! Flit! Beauty is shallow en dries like a puddle in the summer sun, or sucked into the ground. True character is forever. You marry a pretty girl, en what do you have? A pretty face for a few years till she's worn with work and childbirth. This girl here? Her beauty might come en go," Rip said as she ruffled Seras' hair, "In fact, I dare say her beauty can go just as quick as it came, but if you marry her, you will have a loyal wife for life. There is nothing she won't do for you, and you'll be just as glad you had her with one arm or two."

"Rip Van..." Seras groaned.

"Oh! You're right: Knock on the wood of Jesus Christ's Cross..." Rip said as she knocked on the wooden table. "En spit to ward off evil!" and she spat in Seras' hair three times.

"Ugh! Don't!" Seras cried, and pushed her away and wiped up her hair.

The men laughed.

The Geese soon learned from Seras that Rip had exaggerated. They did not become instant friends, but rather Rip had invited her to stay for supper after how she helped her father, then started inviting her out to help her with her tinkering and tailoring. Soon Seras would go over often to help Rip with her latest venture while Rip, in turn, helped teach Seras French. It was a symbiotic friendship born of mutual need; Rip needed a listener to her stories, a sharer of her love of fables and nursery rhymes, and an "assistant" for her ever-changing hobbies. Seras, in turn, needed to learn French and seemed grateful for a companion.

While no one was looking, Pip smiled fondly toward Seras. So, this was how she came to stay in that town, and how she came to be friends with Rip Van Winkle. Her indomitable will to live, her refusal of being driven off, her incredible work ethic, her compassion for a stranger, her kindness toward a family that was shunned for being different ("and legitimately kooky, creepy, and funny," he thought) by everyone else, even if it meant sacrificing better standing in the town herself. God, she was such a good girl.

Pip had always thought Seras beautiful, from the first moment he laid eye on her. How could he not? She was lovely by anyone's standards. Yet, it was hard to believe she had been very thin, sickly, and haggard not too long before he and his men came into the village. That she had grown steadily prettier over her three years in the town, but had not fully bloomed from a "clumsy, awkward duckling into a graceful, elegant swan," as Rip liked to put it. That only just shortly before they arrived, she started being harassed for marriage and favors by the unscrupulous town hero, who never noticed her until she became pretty, and didn't even seem to realize the discrepancy.

Pip looked upon Seras now and wondered if things had been different had he arrived in the village while she was still homely. Would he have looked at her twice? Would he have wanted her, teased her, harassed her? Or would he have been like Luke Valentine, barely noticed her and brushed passed her for some greater beauty? Then again, Pip was not as picky. He had been with many women he did not particularly attractive physically, but he often noticed and/or remembered something about her mannerism, or characteristic.

A few nights later, Seras finished work very late and Rip Van Winkle waited for her. This was nothing new, for the terms of her job at the tavern was to serve the Geese in the evening and go home after they went to bed, and they often stayed up. This was before it became unsafe to wander home at night though. There was talk of vandals prowling the village, stealing sheep and robbing passersby on the road. The war was getting closer and harder, and people were becoming desperate.

So, when Seras grabbed her traveling cloak, he offered to walk them home.

"Oh no, we couldn't impose," Seras said.

"Nonsense!" he grinned, "This small town this becoming unsafe for two lovely, unmarried women such as yourself to walk home alone at night."

"He has a point, lieverd," Rip said, "Just yesterday, young Murielle said she saw some hustlers rounding up her family's sheep, en when she tried to get them to run away by running out to them, they approached her. She was so scared she bolted the doors en windows and called for help from her papa."

"But then how will you get back?" Seras asked.

She meant that if he escorted her and Rip home, he would be alone and vulnerable to attack as he walked back.

Two of his other men, who were up with Captain Bernadotte and were preparing to go upstairs to bed just as Seras prepared to leave, piped in, "We'll go too."

"Wonderful! The more the merrier!" Rip exclaimed.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Seras asked.

"Are you kidding? We're built like oxes and dressed like soldiers."

"And we're armed besides," said another, pulling a knife from his pocket."

"Trust me, no one's going to bother you ladies while we're around!"

"Good enough for me! Let's go!" Rip cried, and pushed open the door.

Seras was a little nervous, but thanked Pip graciously as he held the door open for her.

The snow and wind was blowing rather hard outside. They were just barely able to stay to the path or find the little candle Rip's father kept lit for them. Once they got inside, they shivered and brushed snow off themselves as they got inside. The men were preparing to turn around, but Rip invited them to come in and drink something warm before they set out. Not being ones to turn down free drinks, the men

Old Man Winkle was still at his work bench and unaware of the time. He didn't notice they had come home late because he always lost track of time at his work bench. He would have worked all through the night and wondered why the birds were singing after the sun rose, completely unaware that it was dawn. In fact, the only reason he stopped to eat was because of Rip Van Winkle to remind him of meal times and take care of domestic duties for him.

"Goedenavond jonge dames," he said without looking up. "Did you have fun in the tavern today?"

"I won a few coins!" Rip said happily.

"Yeah, from my coin pouch," grumbled one of the escorts.

"Oh, that's nice," he said. "Do you think you girls can put on supper? I'm famished."

He only just realized he was hungry when they walked through the door.

"We have guests today, papa," Rip said as she pulled out the cauldron.

"Oh, indeed? Will these young ladies stay for supper? Or should they get home to their families?"

"They are not young ladies, papa, they are the mercenaries Seras hates so much."

"I don't HATE them..." Seras grumbled.

"That's nice... that's nice..." Old Man Winkle said absently. When her words finally sunk in, Old Man Winkle jerked his head up and saw the three tall, grizzled mercenaries. "Oh, my word! You girls are growing up so fast!"

Rip laughed. "They are only escorts, papa, because it is dangerous to walk alone at night."

"Indeed... Indeed..." he said absently, though it was clear her words had not sunk in. "I tell you, meneer, daughters grow up so fast. One day you're wiping tears from her eyes after she fell down and skinned her knees, and the next she's bringing men home to dine."

"That was a long time ago, papa!" Rip cried.

The men snickered. "Skinned knees?"

"I liked to play rough... who would like to stay for supper?"

"What?" Seras cried.

She was affronted. She expected them to escort them home, MAYBE stay for a sip of something warm to drink, then go back to the tavern.

"That's all right, we just ate," Pip said from the doorway.

However, one of his men sat down to the dinner table and rubbed his hands eagerly. "So, what're we having?"

"O'Connor!" Pip said sternly.

"Just a nice vegetable stew with bread, some dried fish en little cakes from leftover dough."

"Well, when you put it like that, we can stay for a quick bite," he said, and hung up his coat.

The Geese quickly made themselves at home and sat around to supper. Rip Van Winkle was a charming hostess just as in the tavern, and Seras made herself a kind of serving girl just like in the tavern. She heated up the stew over the fire, passed around the food and drinks, and constantly got up to refill bowls and cups whenever they started to get low. The men were fast and voracious eaters, so they were grateful for her attention, but Rip found Seras' lack of sociability at the supper table disturbing.

"Seras, it's fine! Sit down!"

Seras looked extremely nervous and could not sit still. She would begin to sit down and then inevitably hop up and rush across the room to get something she felt was important. She went to get the salt bag so everyone could flavor their vegetable stew. She went up to get an extra bottle of wine for their guests. She went to get an extra loaf of bread, which she had intended to have for dinner on the morrow, and promised she would get another in town.

"Seras, it's fine! I don't mind! Now sit!" Rip cried.

Seras had worked in a tavern for over three years and was used to serving men food and drinks. What she was not used to was sitting at the table with them. In all her long years (and each year felt long) serving men food and drink and clearing away their plates and cups when they were done, not once did she ever stay to eat with them, or watch them eat. Seeing the way they ate - how they shoveled food in their mouths, and drank and slurped, and tore off chunks of bread to sop up the last of the broth, made her nervous.

Sitting down to the table to see Mr. Bernadotte sitting across from her, and at eye level at that, intimidated her. She felt compelled to stand up and move away. She was used to and preferred seeing them below and far away from her. Sitting at the same table seemed too close and personal. She did not like sitting so closely. Eating is a very personal act, and sitting so close as they ate and eating in front of them, seemed more intimate to Seras than if they made out in the tool shed.

"Seras, you have not touched your food!" Rip protested.

"I'm not hungry," she said gently.

"You haven't eaten all day!"

"Yes I have."

She didn't want to eat.

"Oy, if you're not going to eat that, can I have it?" one of the men said.

"Go ahead."

Before Rip could protest, Seras' stew was gone. The man who asked snapped it up and the fellow next to him stuck his spoon in it too. Within a few mouthfuls the two Wild Geese had drained the bowl's contents. Seras was just as glad for it, for then it seemed supper would soon be over and the men could go back to the tavern. Her mortification increased tenfold, though, when Rip placed Seras' honey cakes on the table.

"En for dessert, look what Seras made! Leftover dough from the bread made these scr

Seras' breath hitched.

"Damn, I didn't know you could bake!"

"Uh huh!" Rip exclaimed. "Seras is a very good baker en cook! Everything we eat here is made by her!"

Seras blushed angrily. "Not true! The stew was yours! And the bread was..."

"But you helped me!"

"Rip Van..." Seras groaned.

Her friend's obsessive need to sell her good points as a suitable wife had long gone passed "silly" and "embarrassing" and were now deep into "mortifyingly humiliating" territory. Seras did not WANT to share her cooking or baking. She did not WANT the men to see her as anything but the girl that served their food and drinks made by someone else so they could put her out of their minds and she could go on with her life.

Of course the hungry devils tore into the little cakes and quickly devoured what she had poured part of her soul into.

"Jesus, if I'd known you were this good, I wouldn't have eaten that slop over at Bouvier's Tavern!"

"Why don't you tell us you could bake?"

"No... I..." Seras blushed. "I'm not that good."

"Jesus Fuck! Why weren't YOU the cook at the last tavern?"

"Shit, all the money I wasted on slop when I coulda enjoyed something like this!"

"This is nothing!" Rip exclaimed, "You should try her lamb chops soaked in mint en honey sauce."

"Mint and honey?" one of the men grimaced. "Sounds disgusting."

"It's not! It's true! When Seras makes it, it's wonderful. It tastes like heaven in your mouth! The next time we have the chance to slaughter a lamb, you simply must come over en try someone!"

"It's a deal!" one of the men said.

"I am so glad!" Rip exclaimed excitedly.

Captain Bernadotte raised one of the cakes to his lips. Seras felt her breath hitch and her heart stop. She loved to bake. She poured part of her heart and soul into every single cake, and now he was raising part of her heart and soul to his lips and was about to consume it, and make it part of himself. To her, it could not be more intimate if she had pulled back her chemise (or underdress) to reveal her naked body to him, and he went to run his hands over it as they retired into a small dark room.

On some level he must have realized the significance too, because he popped it into his mouth, then his eyes and face melted into a soft smile.

"It's very good," he said simply.

Over where she was, beneath her furious blush, Seras looked him in the eye and smiled softly.

Later that evening, Seras said good night to the Wild Geese by the front door. The wind and snow had settled down, so it was rather calm out. The new moon had waxed into a smiling crescent, just enough so the men could see. The two other men started to teeter back to the tavern while their captain hung back to say good night.

"You be careful getting back," Seras said, "They say the roads are not safe anymore, what with the robberies and such."

"I know, ma cher," he grinned. "That's why we walked you over in the first place."

"Still, the roads are dangerous for you too," Seras said earnestly.

"Awe, cher, I did not know you cared!" Pip grinned, and placed a hand over his heart feigning being touched.

Seras frowned and blushed. "I don't! I just don't want to hear of you getting hurt, that's all!"

Before Pip could respond, his men, who were teetering drunkenly toward the tavern, cried:

"Oh, nag, nag, nag! Hen-pecked already!"

"You're never going to have any fun if you get married!"

"Fine! Don't be careful! See if I care!" Seras snapped, and prepared to close the door.

"Aw, come on, ma cher, he was only fooling. Now, how about one for the road?" Pip said, and leaned down for a kiss.

Seras slammed the door in his face, and then sighed.

Outside, Pip grinned, and walked back toward the tavern with more pep in his step than he could ever remember.