After discovering that a Desire Demon had been responsible for the slaughter of Sebastian's family, and, after killing her, Fenris, Hawke and Varric accompanied Sebastian back to the chantry, as he wished to pray for the souls of the Harriman family. Before they parted ways, Sebastian compensated Hawke generously for his aid, and pledged his assistance to Hawke and his companions if ever they needed it.

Although Hawke thought that Sebastian went on about the Maker a lot, he seemed a decent enough fellow, and was deadly with a bow. Hawke asked him if he'd be interested in joining their expedition into the deep roads, and Sebastian readily accepted, promising to make himself available when the time came.

"So, what are you kids up to this afternoon?" asked Varric as they reached the bottom of the steps. He'd noticed some slight tension between Fenris and Hawke, or, if it wasn't tension, they were both rather subdued, and he'd made an effort to lighten their mood, having limited success. He'd also noticed that Fenris had appeared unsteady on his feet a couple of times, although the elf hadn't wavered when it had come to protecting them all.

"Well, firstly, I thought I'd offer Sebastian a job," Hawke quipped. "It's about time we had a decent archer in our little gang," he added with a sly glance at Varric.

"Hey, say what you like about me, Hawke, but don't hurt Bianca's feelings," answered Varric .

"I wouldn't dream of insulting Bianca," replied Hawke. "I did say the archer, not the weapon."

"Well, I hope you and Choirboy will be very happy together," Varric said in the easy, mellow voice he always spoke with. Hawke had never heard the dwarf so much as raise his voice, or sound annoyed. "How about you, Elf?" Varric asked Fenris. "Anything exciting on the agenda?"

Fenris, who had turned one of his feet inward and was examining it carefully, started a little and stared at the dwarf. "I'm sorry – what did you say?"

"I asked if you had anything exciting planned this afternoon?" Varric repeated, watching Fenris expectantly.

"Actually, erm…Hawke…is going to attempt to teach me to read." Noticing Hawke's head snap in his direction, Fenris turned to Fletcher but did not look at him. "I am not ashamed."

"Well, good for you, Elf!" sang Varric, unthinkingly clapping Fenris on the shoulder, who stumbled a little, quickly correcting his posture. "Sorry about that," muttered Varric, his eyes moving over to where Hawke stood.

"How about you, Varric?" asked Hawke.

"Thought I'd spend a little time with Sunshine. Actually," he said in a quieter voice, "I wanted to speak to you. Maybe later?"

"Everything all right?" Hawke asked with concern.

Varric's easy smile immediately reassured him. "Everything's perfect. Let's talk later, ok?"

"Sure, Varric." They shook hands, and as Varric turned away, Fenris called him back.

"Dwarf." Fenris took a step forward and proffered his hand, and Varric shook it, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"I wanted to shake your hand, Elf, but I wasn't sure…anyway, you two enjoy your lesson. I'll catch you both later." Releasing Fenris's hand, he walked off, leaving Hawke and Fenris alone.

"It's great that you can shake hands with people now, Fenris," Hawke said quietly. "I'm p…well, shall we get started?"

Fenris nodded mutely and the two of them took the short walk over to Hightown Estates, a strange mood settling over them both now that Varric had gone: Fenris seemed to have no desire to talk at all, which only made Hawke feel an acute need to fill the silence with prattle.

"As you're, erm, a bit, well, oiled," Hawke began, "our first lesson may not quite stick in your mind as well as it normally would, so we'll repeat it tomorrow. Would that be all right? If, I mean, we had a lesson every day? It would probably be best, or, if you liked, you could take a break now and then. It's up to you, Fenris: I'm sure you don't want me hanging around you all the time."

As Fenris gave a vague nod, Hawke cleared his throat, realising he was wittering. He knew he had an uphill struggle to convince Fenris that it was worth learning to read, and also convincing Fenris that he was capable of doing so.

"We'll just start off nice and simply today, Fenris," he continued as they reached the top of the steps leading to the old mansion. As the taciturn Fenris took out his key and opened the door, Hawke had to fight off the temptation to grab Fenris's arms and shake him.

Talk to me! Maker, Fletcher, why did you have to go and tell him that you knew? I know he knew that I knew, but…why did you have to say it? Idiot!

"I will make some tea," said Fenris quietly as they entered. "Where do you wish to conduct the lesson?" Although Fenris now had little enthusiasm for his reading lesson, he knew that Hawke had lots, and he also knew, after talking to him the evening before, that Hawke had gone to a lot of effort to prepare, and so didn't wish to appear ungrateful.

"Erm, how about the dining room?" suggested Hawke. "That big table will come in handy, although you may want to cover it; I wouldn't want to ruin the nice polished surface."

"The table does not belong to me," Fenris said, heading for the kitchen. "Do with it what you will."

Hawke let out a long breath and waited until Fenris had gone before entering the dining room. He opened the drapes and a couple of windows. His father, who had taught him his letters and how to read, had always insisted that fresh air was healthy and conducive to learning. Hawke had no idea of whether that was true or not, but did what his father would have done, nonetheless.

Removing the small bag that was slung across his hip, Hawke opened it and took out a small stack of papers, some parchment and several sticks of charcoal. When Fenris had left his house the previous evening, Hawke had retrieved a few chunks of the charred wood from the fireplace, and had carefully broken them into small sticks.

When Fenris arrived with the tea, Hawke was sitting at the table. "You have gone to a lot of trouble," observed Fenris, setting the cups down. "You should not have…"

"We're going to do this properly, Fenris," said Hawke as Fenris took a seat opposite him. "Erm, Fenris…it would be best if you sat next to me. You don't want to learn to read upside-down, do you?"

Fenris sighed softly through his nose and stood up, bringing his tea to the other side of the table. Hawke pulled out the chair next to him, and Fenris took his seat, leaning slightly away from Hawke on his elbow.

"Right," began Hawke. "The very first thing we need to do is to teach you your letters." Remembering what his father had done when he was young, he took the small stack of papers and removed the top five pieces, placing them in a line on the table; each one had a letter of the alphabet written on them. "Today, you're going to learn the first five letters of the alphabet. I'm not suggesting that you aren't capable of learning more than that in one day, but if we keep things simple, they will be more likely to stay in your head."

Fenris glanced at Hawke and nodded.

Taking the first piece of paper, Hawke placed it in front of Fenris along with a piece of charcoal. "There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet, and this is the first, 'A'."

"'A'," Fenris repeated.

"You can speak the common language, so you should be able to name a few things that begin with 'A'," said Hawke, glancing around the room. "Can you do that for me?"

Looking uncertain, Fenris looked around briefly, coming up with nothing, and he shrugged.

"'A' can be pronounced in three different ways," Hawke told him. "There's 'A', which is a short, sharp sound; there's 'Ay', and there's also 'Ah'."

Fenris's brow creased for a moment as he thought hard. "Armour?" he asked, pointing to his chest.

"That's right," Hawke said with a bright smile. "Anything else?"

Fenris sat up straight in the chair and looked around the room again. "Armoire."

"Very good," Hawke said encouragingly. "What else?"

Fenris scanned the entire room, looking up at the ceiling and behind him, and Hawke allowed himself the small hope that Fenris was beginning to take an interest. "I cannot see anything else," said Fenris, shaking his head.

"Well, neither can I," agreed Hawke. "Try to think outside of this room. "What other things have you seen that begin with 'A'?"

"Is this really necessary?" asked Fenris quietly, defeat in his posture.

"Of course; it will reinforce the letter in your mind. Every time you look at the armoire, or your armour, you will know that they begin with the letter 'A'."

"But I already know that."

"Who's the teacher here; you or me?" Hawke teased.

"Very well," Fenris agreed with a sigh, and he rested his head on his hand as he began to think.

"'A', 'Ay', and 'Ah'," Hawke repeated.

"Apple," Fenris said after a moment, and, with an encouraging nod from Hawke, he came up with a few more examples.

"Well done, Fenris," said Hawke, hoping he didn't sound condescending. He pushed the piece of paper closer to Fenris. "That is the letter 'A'. Look at it; I want you to think of one word beginning with 'A' that you could associate it with."

"Well, as I usually wear armour, I would choose that. Is that…correct?"

"There's no right or wrong answer, Fenris; it's your word. Whenever you look at your armour – if you're not in the middle of a fight, that is – I want you to think of the letter 'A' and to remember the shape of the letter, how it's formed. Can you do that?"

Fenris nodded. "I can do that."

Hawke took a piece of parchment and his own stick of charcoal. "Now, I'm going to show you how to write the letter 'A', and then, you'll write it."

"Write?" asked Fenris sharply. "You did not mention writing."

"But you have to learn to write as well as read, Fenris; the two go hand in hand with each other."

Fenris stared at the small piece of paper in front of him and pushed his chair back, walking over to the window. Hawke, unsurprised, remained in his seat and took a deep breath.

"You did not say anything about writing, Hawke. I cannot do both at the same time," Fenris said irritably.

"If I'd mentioned writing as well, you never would have agreed to do this in the first place," Hawke said patiently.

"So, you know what I am thinking, now?"

"It sounds a lot, doesn't it? Learning to read and write? But I never would have offered to teach you if I didn't think you were capable, Fenris." Hawke turned in his chair a little, half-facing Fenris. "I'm going to make a confession, now, which may embarrass you a little, but here goes," he began. "I…sort of look up to you, Fenris."

"What?" Fenris laughed derisively.

"It's true. Not only can you speak two languages, which I can't, but you have the largest vocabulary I think I've ever heard in anyone before. I have to admit, once or twice you've said a word I didn't know the meaning of, and I've had to look it up when I got home, although I'd never have embarrassed myself by admitting that in front of everyone. That word you used yesterday…knighted?"

"Benighted," Fenris corrected him.

"Right, that one. I don't have a clue what that means, although I think I caught its meaning in the context of the conversation. Does it mean…stupid, or something similar?"

Fenris turned to face Hawke and sat upon the window sill. "It means…ignorant, unenlightened."

"Well, you're hardly that," said Hawke. "I meant what I said, you know; you really are the most intelligent person I know. I don't waste my time with insincere flattery. If I say something, I mean it."

"And yet, I cannot read or write."

"Which is not your fault," Hawke insisted. "Reading and writing are just basic tools. You already have the intelligence, which will make our task that much easier. You just need to work on your confidence, that's all. I know you can do this, Fenris. I wouldn't waste my time on a thicko."

"A…'thicko'?"

"Ha! I've turned the tables on you!" Hawke laughed. "I said a word that you don't know the meaning of." He poked his tongue out at Fenris, who shook his head and snorted softly.

"I doubt that is a word at all, but I think I caught its meaning in the context of the conversation," answered Fenris, his posture relaxing a little.

"Well then, there you go." Hawke turned back to the table and picked up a stick of charcoal. "Shall we continue?"

Hawke sat and waited for a few minutes, and eventually, Fenris sat down next to him, apparently having decided to resume. Hawke took a sip of his tea and Fenris did the same, watching as Hawke produced two small objects from his bag, both of them wrapped in clean napkins.

"Here you go," said Hawke, passing one of them to Fenris. "Something to go with our tea."

Fenris glanced askance at Hawke and then slowly unwrapped his small gift. "Cake," he said with a hint of a smile. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey, I haven't had anything to eat, today!" Hawke protested. "And I've walked up the steps. I don't think a bit of cake's going to hurt."

Fenris raised the cake to his nose and smelled it.

"It's fruitcake," Hawke explained. "There was no shortbread left. Someone finished it off last night."

Fenris pressed his lips together, failing to hide an embarrassed grin. "That would explain it, then. What is this?" he asked, pointing to a thin, yellow crust on the slice of cake.

"Marzipan," Hawke replied with his mouth full, crumbs falling into his lap. "It's made from almonds."

Fenris sniffed at the cake again, and took a small bite. "It's very rich," he remarked, taking another sip of tea. "I like it, but I prefer shortbread."

"You know…" Hawke cast a crafty glance at Fenris. "If you sit through this lesson with me, and if you pass the test at the end…"

"Test?"

"Yes, a test. You'll breeze it, Fenris. If you do that, I'll show you how to make shortbread. It's easy, and you have everything you need in the kitchen."

"I could make my own shortbread?"

"You could make as much as you like. You could eat nothing but shortbread if you wanted, although I wouldn't recommend that; you'd end up as fat as me."

"You are not fat," Fenris argued, peeling the marzipan off the cake and taking another sniff at it.

"I'm at least a couple of stone over the odds, and these robes hide all manner of sins."

"Perhaps you merely need to be more physically active," suggested Fenris, taking a tentative bite of the marzipan, his eyes lighting up as he quickly took another bite.

"Well, if you also agree to have a reading lesson every day, that means I'll be walking up the steps at least once a day, which will help. So, if you refuse to have regular lessons, you'll be causing considerable damage to my health."

"You are attempting to blackmail me," Fenris accused with a mite of amusement in his voice.

"That's such an ugly word, Fenris. Tell you what, I'll sweeten the deal: I'll show you how to make marzipan, as well; you seem to like it."

"Blackmail," Fenris repeated.

"Although, we would have to purchase some eggs and almonds for marzipan; I don't think you have any of those in the kitchen," said Hawke thoughtfully.

"Hawke?" asked Fenris. "'Almonds' begins with 'A', doesn't it?"

"It certainly does," Hawke confirmed, smiling. "Now, the sooner we get this lesson, and your test finished, the sooner Fenris will have shortbread in his belly. Let's get started."

~o~O~o~

Having passed his test with flying colours, Fenris was led down to the kitchen by Hawke as promised. "This is the easiest thing to make, ever, Fenris," Hawke told him, assembling the ingredients together. "You need one part sugar, two parts butter and three parts flour. What could be simpler?"

"That's all?"

"That's all. Some people put spices into the mixture, but personally, I think that ruins it. You could try it, though; that's the best thing about cooking. You can experiment; make the recipe your own."

"I do not wish for the recipe to be altered," said Fenris.

"All right, then." Hawke tipped some sugar into a large mixing bowl, and added some butter. He then passed the bowl to Fenris with a fork.

"What must I do with this?"

"Just mash it all together, and when the butter starts to soften, stir it so it goes all creamy. Name me two things that begin with 'B'."

"What?"

"Oh, the lesson isn't over, Fenris; learning is a constant process, you know."

Fenris paused, and then looked at what Hawke had just passed to him. "Butter…bowl?"

"Correct. I'll go and get some flour."

When Hawke returned, he measured out some of the flour into another bowl and placed it on the counter next to Fenris. "Now that the butter's all creamy, you slowly stir the flour in. Just a bit at a time, though, otherwise you'll get lumps."

Fenris nodded and added a small amount of flour to the mixture. "While you were gone, I thought of a few more words," he told Hawke.

"Oh, yes?"

"Bread, counter, ceiling, creamy, board…chopping board? You said that the letter 'C' could also sound like 'S' or 'Tch'."

"Very good, Fenris," said Hawke proudly. "I knew you'd have no trouble with this."

"And, although we have none at present, 'eggs' begin with 'E'."

"Well, now you're just showing off!" Hawke laughed.

Fenris hung his head bashfully, and, for a moment, Hawke was seized by an impulse to clasp Fenris's chin and raise his head, and then... Instead, Hawke cleared his throat.

"So…what do you think, Fenris? Was the lesson all right? Do you think you'd like to continue?"

Fenris set the bowl down onto the counter and seemed to consider Hawke's words seriously. "Not particularly," he remarked with a slightly impish smile, "but there is your health to consider."

Hawke placed his hand over his heart. "Well, I'm honoured, Fenris, that you would make such a sacrifice for the sake of my health. You have a deal. Put it there."

Hawke held out his hand and was delighted that Fenris shook it with little hesitation.

~o~O~o~

After the shortbread was made, and, after sampling several pieces of it to ensure that Fenris had 'used the correct technique', Hawke invited Fenris to The Hanged Man for a drink. Fenris politely declined, telling Hawke that he had not yet done his daily sword training. Hawke resisted the temptation to ask if he could stay and watch, and they arranged a time the following day to conduct Fenris's next lesson.

Hawke left the mansion with a spring in his step, and tried very hard to ignore a few more little nagging doubts that had planted themselves into his mind, uninvited. Not that he thought Fenris was lying, but had he used the sword training as an excuse? Did he think he was seeing too much of Hawke? Was Hawke being overbearing? Fenris was very polite, after all. Would he really tell Hawke that he was making a nuisance of himself, if that were the case?

There was also the thought of what tomorrow would bring. Hawke and Fenris had spent another pleasant afternoon together, which pleased Hawke immensely, but also worried him: Fenris had obviously spent a restless night going over what had happened the day before. He'd been made to feel accepted and welcome several times that day, which was clearly something he was not used to, as it appeared to have greatly disturbed him.

Something else that Hawke had noticed was that Fenris, for all of his promises to make Danarius suffer and to give him a slow death, was genuinely frightened of his former master's return, and felt powerless against him, almost fatalistically so. A heaviness settled in Hawke's stomach at that thought, and also at the thought of Fenris spending yet another night alone at the mansion. Fenris was a very capable warrior, and fought with a vigour and passion that belied his wiry frame, but could he really hold off a Magister who was possibly capable of mind control among other things, as well as his henchmen?

The heaviness in Hawke's stomach turned into a sinking feeling, and for a few moments he seriously considered returning to the mansion that night to check on Fenris and to offer him some kind of reassurance, but he knew deep down that he couldn't do that. He didn't want Fenris to feel suffocated by him, nor did he want to give his feelings away. Fenris had opened up to him that morning by telling him about the Fog Warriors, and as much as Hawke wanted to know more about Fenris's past, he knew that one thing he must not do was push too hard.

A thought occurred to Hawke as he walked along. Although he'd promised to speak to Varric, he knew that the dwarf would be at The Hanged Man later that evening, and, as Hawke was still in Hightown, he decided to make a detour to the barracks.

As Hawke hadn't made an appointment to see anyone at the Keep, he had to wait in line and had to wait again as Aveline was in the middle of a briefing. When he was finally shown to her office, she immediately apologised.

"Sorry about all the waiting, Hawke; I've told the guards at the front that your name is to be permanently put on the list. At least that way, even if I'm busy when you call, you can wait inside where it's a bit warmer."

"I've told you what to do, Aveline; just give me a key."

Aveline gave Hawke her sternest look as she rifled through several documents on her desk. "You know that's not going to happen, Hawke."

"Well, let me cut in line, then," he suggested cheekily.

Aveline straightened up and folded her arms.

"All right, all right," Hawke laughed. "It was worth a try. How are you getting on?"

Aveline sighed and took a seat at her desk, inviting Hawke to sit in the chair opposite. "Jevens left a right bloody mess for me. It's going to take a while to sort out; my highest priority at the moment is the patrols."

Hawke gave his best approximation of a sage nod, and fidgeted slightly in his chair. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something about the patrols," he said casually.

"Did you?" she asked.

"Yes. I was wondering how well-protected the estates in Hightown are at night."

"Hightown? Why do you need to know that? You live in Lowtown, don't you?"

"I'm just curious, that's all."

"Hawke," she said, leaning across the desk. "I can't just give out details of my patrols to just anyone, you know. Not without a very good reason."

"But I'm not just anyone, am I?" he answered with a charming smile. "Look; I'm not planning anything illegal, if that's what you're worried about."

She looked at him for a moment with slightly-narrowed eyes. "What's this about, Hawke?"

He shrugged, and then sighed. "Fenris lives in one of the houses on the Hightown Estate."

"I'm aware of that," she replied. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Hawke sat back in his chair and examined his fingers for a few moments. "I'm concerned about his safety. For the Maker's sake, don't tell him I told you that," he added quickly.

"Why, Hawke? Have you heard something?" she asked seriously, taking up her quill.

"As you don't know Fenris very well, you might not know this, but somebody's after him," explained Hawke.

"After him? Is it an authority of some kind? Because if it is, I don't think I should interfere in that, Hawke."

"Authority? No! It's someone who wants him dead, and I want to know how strong your patrols are in Hightown, all right?" he demanded with more heat in his voice than he'd intended.

Aveline held her hands up. "All right, Hawke; calm down. I need a name and a description."

"I don't know what he looks like," said Hawke, taking a deep breath. "I only know that one day he's going to come for Fenris, and he's on his own in that place." Hawke started to bite his thumbnail, and Aveline could see that he was genuinely worried.

"Who is he, Hawke, and what does he want with Fenris?"

"I'll tell you, Aveline, but this stays between us." Aveline nodded, and Hawke told her about Danarius, although he left some details out, about Fenris's markings, and a few other things he considered pertinent. "Danarius is a Magister and a blood mage. He's very powerful, and I'm just…if he ever did return for Fenris, I don't think Fenris would stand a chance. Every time I call on him, I half expect him not to be there."

Aveline sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Do you have any indication as to when this Danarius might show up?"

"None. It could be today, tomorrow…" Hawke stood up and leaned against the desk. "…He could be there right now for all I know." He released his breath in a sharp burst. "I know I'm asking a lot, Aveline, but I just want more of a presence in Hightown. From what I've seen, the patrols there are very few."

"There's never been much need for a strong Guard presence in Hightown," Aveline explained. "Most crime occurs in Lowtown or Darktown. Those steps certainly are a deterrent."

"Danarius won't care about the blasted steps when he comes for Fenris!" Hawke insisted heatedly, pushing himself away from the desk. He rubbed his forehead and sighed, turning back to Aveline. "I'm sorry. I'm…he's all alone there. He…I-I care about him, Aveline."

"Yes, I can see that," she replied softly. "Thing is, Hawke, would a couple of extra guards really make a difference against a powerful blood mage?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hawke said wearily, his shoulders sagging. "I don't want to place your guards in danger, Aveline, but…" He shook his head and sat back down, resting his head on his hand.

"You know, we do have a few ex-templars on the books," Aveline said thoughtfully. "They're posted in Darktown at the moment because of the apostate underground movement, just in case there's any trouble. Not that the Templars have ever discovered the movement's base…"

"Templars?" asked Hawke, his eyes widening.

"Hmm," mumbled Aveline. "I suppose they'd appreciate a change of scenery; they're not really doing any good in the Undercity, anyway; I suspect the apostates know their patrol routes like the back of their hands."

Hawke sat up straight. "You'd…you'd move them to Hightown?"

"This is a big favour you're asking, Hawke, but I can see it's important to you." She stroked her chin. "I'll have to come up with a reason for them being there, although I daresay the nobles won't complain. Mind you, the nobles always have something to complain about; I think they should all spend a week in Darktown to see what real life is like. All right, Hawke; I'll sort that out for you."

"Oh, Aveline…I can't thank you enough, really."

"I want a favour in return, though," she insisted.

"Anything," he answered.

Aveline cleared her throat noisily and shifted in her seat a little. "I, erm…" She beckoned him closer, and he leaned across the desk, intrigued. "You'll be at the Hanged Man later, won't you?"

Hawke nodded.

"Well, I want you to, uh…you know Donnic, don't you? Yes, of course you do; you did come to the coast with him. Of course you know him. Tall fellow with dark hair?"

"Aveline, stop babbling and tell me what you want me to do."

"I am babbling a bit, aren't I? I do that sometimes, although you wouldn't think it. It's a bad habit of mine…"

"Aveline!"

"All right, all right. I…want you to invite Donnic for a drink. Tonight. At The Hanged Man."

Hawke looked confused. "Why?"

"Look; just do it, all right?"

"Aveline, if you want to ask him out for a drink, why don't you ask him yourself?"

She shrugged. "I can't, Hawke. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Says who?"

"Says me," she insisted. "I just want to sort of bump into him, you know?"

A huge grin spread across Hawke's face. "I knew you were sweet on him."

"Shhh!" she hissed, glancing over to the door. "I'm not exactly sweet on him, I just want to get to know my guards better, that's all."

"Uh-huh," mumbled Hawke. "So, you want me to ask the rest of the guards out for a drink, then?"

"One at a time, Hawke," she answered, unable to meet his eyes.

"I see."

"Hawke, just tell me whether or not you'll do it," she snapped.

"I'll do it," he answered with a chuckle. "Anything to help the spirit of camaraderie amongst the guards."

Aveline smiled lopsidedly and absent-mindedly shuffled a few papers around her desk. "Thanks, Hawke."

He stood up and stretched. "Is he here?" he asked.

"No, he's on patrol at the moment in central Lowtown."

"Thank the Maker for that! I thought for a moment you were going to say he was at the bloody Wounded Coast."

"I wouldn't have put you through another walk there, Hawke," she answered with a warm smile.

"About eight bells?" he asked.

She nodded. "Thanks again, Hawke."

"No, thank you, Aveline. I really can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. And thanks for understanding."

"They come on duty at six bells, so I'll give them their new assignment then. I think they'll be quite pleased, actually."

"You're the best, Aveline. I guess I'd better go and find Donnic, the first person on your…list," he said with a wink. "I'll see you later."

"I'll be there, Hawke," she promised, and saw him out of the office.