A Kiss and a Flying Pie
Heh, I had WAY too much caffeine and have been up for the past few hours, bored out of my mind, and decided to write one more chapter before vacation. But THIS is the last chapter for the next two weeks, and I mean it this time! Ok I just realized that these last three chapters haven't really been one-shots, since they happened consecutively in the story, but from here-on that probably won't happen again. Ooh, I apologize for Sand's brief OOC moment, but...well, I couldn't resist. So...that's all I have to say. Enjoy!
"Does this hurt?" Elanee asked gently when she pushed on the tiefling's side.
Tasha shook her head. "No, feels fine. You did a great job. Thanks."
The druid shook her head and smiled faintly. "It wasn't me, it was Casavir."
"Huh? I thought...what exactly happened after I blacked out?"
"Well...when Lorne fell over we all assumed he was dead, and since you had a falchion imbedded in you..."
The younger woman grimaced and absently rubbed her stomach. "Ouch. Thanks for reminding me..."
Elanee giggled and started re-wrapping the bandages. "No problem. Anyways, we all jumped into the arena-"
"Is that allowed?" the cleric broke in, half-amused, and half-concerned that Nasher was going to have her friends imprisoned.
"No, but...well, it doesn't matter. Once we were in Casavir reached you first and started praying. That's the only thing that kept you alive."
Tasha's eyes found the wall and she said slowly, "I...had no idea. I'll have to thank him."
The druid tied off the bandage and handed her a shirt. "Mm-hm. You can do that at the party."
"Party?"
"Downstairs." Elanee dipped her hands into the basin of water used for cleaning Tasha's wounds. "Duncan's throwing a party to celebrate your victory."
The cleric snorted and pulled the shirt on. "Oh, really? What, an ale party?"
"No, actually. He must have recruited every baker in the city; you should see the feast in his kitchen. Nearly every kind of fruit, meat, and pastry I've ever heard of." She shot her friend a smile, "He really cares about you, Tasha."
"Heh. Yeah...I guess so..." she murmured uncomfortably.
Elanee touched her shoulder gently. "Are you all right?"
Tasha ran a hand through her hair and shifted. "Yeah, just...I'm not used to stuff like this. Daeghun wasn't really...y'know..."
"I see. He had a different was of caring for you."
She nodded, grateful, "Yeah. He loved me...but in his own way."
Elanee smiled softly and moved towards the door. "The party's going to start in a few hours, so...whenever you're ready." She paused outside the room and leveled a glare at Tasha. "And no dancing."
"Huh? Why not?"
"Too much exertion might cause the wound in your stomach to open, or damage your ribs again." She licked her lips and didn't meet Tasha's eyes. "And, ah...don't do anything really...'active', or else..."
"...oh." The cleric found a blush rising. Not that I would...
The druid closed the door and went downstairs, giving the anxious group the news that the tiefling was healing quickly.
Tasha sighed and lay back on the bed, one hand behind her head. It's over...it's really over... she thought absently. A face came to mind, then; Retta Starling, smiling happily, with her hands shoved into a bowl of bread and flour caking her arms. And then Bevil, sparring with Tasha even though most of the youth in West Harbor shunned her as a demon-spawn.
They deserve to know, the tiefling told herself. Lorne may have been a heartless butcher...but what about the younger Lorne, the one who had taken Bevil fishing and taught him how to fight?
Maybe, she mused, he could have been different. Maybe if he hadn't gotten caught up in this, he...maybe he could have gone home, been happy...
The ceiling blurred and a warm tear slid down her cheek. I killed him. I killed Bevi's brother... She moved to a sitting position, wrapped both arms around her knees, and began to pray in a soft murmur.
"You should have a dance, lass," Duncan said as he eyed the group of whirling people. "It'd do you some good."
Tasha gulped down the last of her wine and shrugged, the drink causing her thoughts to become fuzzy. "Elanee said not to be too active, or else I'd ruin your nice clean floor."
The barkeep nodded, gave a little grunt, and moved to serve Khelgar again.
"Nothing too active, eh?" the tiefling turned to see Bishop standing less than a foot away. He smirked and trailed his eyes down her body, not even trying to hide the action. "Such a shame..."
She rolled her eyes and brushed dark hair out of her face. "Yeah, I'm really disappointed."
His smirk grew as he moved even closer, pretending not to notice her sarcasm. "You must be, m'lady," the ranger drawled, placing both hands against the bar on either side of the tiefling and pressing her back against the bar counter.
She blushed a little and swallowed, unnerved by the hungry look in his honeyed eyes, a look so common in the every-day drunks in Duncan's inn. "Heh... gee, y-mph?" whatever the cleric had tried to say was cut off when he got even closer, letting Tasha feel his warm breath for an instant before he kissed her.
The tiefling was, for a moment, too shocked to react. What do I do what do I do what...do...I...do... after a few seconds she realized that the sensation was, in fact, far from unpleasant. Her eyes drifted closed and she returned the kiss, even let her mouth part a little.
Duncan poured Khelgar, who was already half-drunk, a fresh glass of ale and returned to his conversation with Tasha. The barkeep's jaw dropped a full six inches when he saw her pressed back against his counter by Bishop, of all people.
The large man made a strangled sound when the ranger slid one arm behind her, resting it at the small of Tasha's back. Inexplainably, she didn't push him away.
"Well, what'dye kn-hic!" Khlelgar grumbled drunkenly, foam lining his beard and dripping down his shirt. "That be...thaaat be..." he shook his head and took another pull, grinning.
Duncan glowered at the pair, one eye twitching imperceptably. If they leave the room, I swear I'll bash his head in... He resolved to speak with Tasha about it later, when the ranger wasn't around.
Neeshka glanced around; the party had been fun, but it could always be better... She turned to eye a nice, fresh, apple pie, just waiting for her to pick it up and...
The tiefling grinned and looked for some unsuspecting target. Khelgar...no, he was dead drunk. Casavir...unfourtunately, the paladin was nowhere to be seen. Sand...no, he was sipping wine at the bar and would most likely blast her into the next century. Neeshka's eyes continued their sweep of the room, finally resting on...Qara. Sitting nearly alone, scowling at everyone near her. The tiefling chuckled and slid into the shadows, waiting...waiting...
Qara glared at Shandra, who was dancing a few feet away. Oh, she'd be dancing a lot better if her hair was on fire... the red-haired girl thought, smirking cruelly. She turned her thoughts inward, watching the picture of Shandra's burning hair, when something warm and gooey hit her smack in the face.
She opened her mouth to gasp in indignation, but that only caused whatever was stuck to her face to enter her mouth. Apples? the girl thought, tasting the sweet flavor. What the... Qara peeled the food away from her face, growling lowly, and looked around for the thrower.
Grobnar! she thought triumphantly when her eyes landed on the gnome, who stared back innocently. The sorceress grabbed a nearby pie and launched it at him. "Take this, you little twerp!"
The gnome wondered vaguely why there was a pie flying through the air, but all thought were momentarily halted when it landed in his face. Oh my, it's cherry pie! My favorite! he thought happily.
Shandra had watched the exchange blankly, and now she whirled on Qara. "What's wrong with you?! He didn't-mphgm!" the blond woman was silenced by a direct hit in the mouth. She blinked and tasted icing.
Neeshka giggled at Shandra's incredulous expression and yelled, "FOOD FIGHT!" She grabbed another pie and nailed Khelgar with it.
Shandra stammered for a few seconds, then grabbed a tray of pastries and sent them flying onto the dance floor. People paused, wondering at the sudden rain of icing-laden goodies, and turned to stare at her.
The blond woman giggled uncontrollably and wondered for a moment if she was drunk. Ah...doesn't matter! Another pie came, surprisingly, from Elanee and landed squarely in a dancer's face.
All hell broke loose, most people racing for the inn door, and the rest of them overturning tables to use as shields. Duncan came out of the washroom and blinked when a cake sailed into the wall beside him. "What the-?"
"Eat this, Neeshka!" Shandra yelled and began firing cupcakes at her friend.
The tiefling clutched her heart and fell to the ground. "Aargh, I'm hit!" she giggled and rolled her eyes to Tasha and Bishop, who were watching the scene from back under the bar counter. "Avenge...meee..."
Tasha laughed and grabbed a pie from the counter, hitting Shandra's stomach and sending blueberries flying everywhere. The woman gasped and met her eyes, then turned the cupcake assualt on Tasha.
Bishop watched with an amused eyebrow arched as the tiefling ducked back under the counter, once-black hair now frosty with icing. He peered over the edge, considering whether or not to get involved.
"Get-hic-the tiefling!" Khelgar bellowed from his perch on a bar stool.
Sand, it seemed, needed to relieve some stress. The moon elf spent a full two minutes glaring at the chaos around him, then took it personally when Qara's cake smashed against his robe. Abruptly the elf shot to his feet, gathered up his robes, grinned maniacally, and began loading his arms with food.
"Take this, Grobnar!" Shandra cried triumphantly. The gnome ducked but caught the cupcake, smiled happily, and sat down to munch on it. "Ooh..."
"Heads up!" Elanee called, launching another pie. It hit Shandra, and Elanee giggled...until she realized that she was out of ammo. The druid gulped and grinned sheepishily at the blond woman, then ran for her life.
Qara lined up Duncan for her next pie, then squealed loudly when Sand came out of nowhere, tugged on the back of her robes, and dumped an armful of cherry-topped pastries down her back.
"SAND!" She whirled on him, shaking furiously, but the elf was already halfway across the room and stalking someone behind the counter.
Casavir, using the washroom upstairs, heard yelling from downstairs. Perhaps there's some sort of fight going on. He sighed and went for the stairs, thinking that Khelgar had begun yet another brawl.
The paladin arched an eyebrow when Elanee dashed past the bottom of the stairs, followed by something white. A moment later Shadra raced after her, carrying more white things.
Casavir briefly wondered why there was a glob of icing on the bottom step, and he thoughtfully decided to clean it up for the over-worked Duncan. The paladin walked down, eying it critically, when something smashed into his face.
Bishop chuckled when the paladin, tall and noble and completely oblivious, came down the stairs. The ranger casually lifted a pie off the counter, smirked at Casavir, and threw.
Tasha grinned when her latest throw nailed Qara, then winced when she saw poor Casavir walk right into a flying pie. A pie that most likely came from... the tiefling turned to Bishop, who was now sitting under the counter, leaning back against it, and laughing softly. Tasha tilted her head to the side and gave a crooked smile; she had never heard him laugh before. It was...a surprisingly pleasant sound. She chuckled and started to say something, but it ended in a shriek when someone pulled back her shirt and dropped a large collection of pastries into it.
The cleric whirled around to see...Sand, of all people, dashing away and gathering another armfull of food as he went. The wizard's perfect brown hair was caked with bits of pie and icing, his robes were splattered with food, and there was an unholy light in his eyes. "Hey! Get back here!" Tasha sprinted after him, grabbing another pie and loosing food from the back of her shirt. Khelgar gave a supporting hiccup when she ran past, then turned back to his mug.
Duncan took refuge in the hallway, shaking his head and muttering curses at whoever had started the fight. "That's going to take forever to clean up..."