Author's notes: Oblivion and all its characters, places, events, etcetera are property of Bethesda Softworks.

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Chapter 35: A Funny Way of Asking

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I knew it was going to be one of those days.

"Oi!" I yelped but not fast enough. I suppose I shouldn't have just stared at the well entrance opening up just before my hand touched the ladder. I should have jumped back, and fast – because Lucien literally dropped in, from the very top of the ladder.

Should have, could have, would have – the fact is that I didn't.

He didn't land on me, he simply landed too close, and knocked us both over into a rather tangled heap. I somehow wound up separating his hood from his shoulders as I flailed – with both arms and one leg, because he had the other leg pinned by his calf at the ankle. "Who…wah?! Wha-ha!" I yelped, fighting not to laugh as I did so, at the utter ridiculousness.

"Ugh…just the minion I was looking for…hold still, woman," Lucien grunted and I heard him wince as he reached over.

Hmm – I must not be too far down on his shitlist after the other night, otherwise he wouldn't have called me his 'minion'. It's not a word he usually uses. But I had to half grin…except that what I actually did was yelp when he, in his distaste for being so graceless, yanked the hood off my head.

"Ow, ow! you've got my hair! You've got-" I didn't finish the sentence before he let go sharply. I reached up and flopped my hood off and scowled at him, massaging my scalp with one hand. "Ow…What's your beef?" I whined, though a better question would have been a cheerful, 'what's up?'

"Crashing into people at the bottom of a ladder...Will you get off my robes?" Lucien demanded irritably, and he gave the lower half of his robes a tug, and they shifted beneath me, causing my balance to shift and I flailed again to maintain my rather precarious balance. He scowled and I grinned ruefully. Apparently he was pinning my leg because I was pinning him pretty effectively in turn.

I shifted my weight and we silently disentangled. "You're one to talk, you crashed into me."

"…Nobody saw that," we both half-snarled at each other. Then I grinned at him. Lucien wasn't in nearly so good a mood, merely harassed - it's really annoying when you're in a harassed mood, and wind up in a situation anyone else would find hilarious.

"Ugh," I declared, and swept up the ladder.

Then climbed back down to find Lucien finally trying not smirk – it looked like he was really working at it, by now. I have that effect on people, I suppose. I tried to snag my satchel back from him, but he maintained his grip. "I want a word," he said simply.

"Oh…" I groaned.

"Yes, I'm very happy that you're happy to hear it –this way," and still carrying my satchel, Lucien started off.

I have never been in Lucien's office here, so I was understandably curious. It's across the hall from Vicente's room, and is almost always closed off. I was surprised to find it was more like…a very spacious broom cupboard. But I guess he has his real office wherever he is when he's not cavorting around Cyrodiil, or here. There was a hollowed-out niche in the wall that had a mattress and bedding on it – I imagine sleeping on it would be like being a loaf of bread on a shelf.

He threw himself down behind his desk, a very study piece of equipment with lots of drawers and began searching for something, throwing my satchel to the floor as if he'd forgotten it wasn't actually his. I picked it up and opened it. I had been planning a reagent-gathering expedition, so there was nothing breakable in there, but just the same, my shears are pretty sharp, and I'd hate for them to wind up damaging the bag.

I was not surprised to see that his desk was in an advanced stated of chaos. I grinned – I knew it.

"Where's Ocheeva?"

I shrugged. "I dunno – I think she took some time out for a swim. Things were getting kind of thick in here," I said idly. The truth is, is that I have a guilty conscience. See, M'raaj finally got on my last nerve, so rather than deface him by cutting off his whiskers, I simply spiked his secret stash of sweets - Khajiiti have a sweet tooth, remember? (In fact, I think that it's more like they have one tooth that's not a sweet tooth, and the rest are.) Anyway – he took a taste of something and wound up tearing around the Sanctuary, thinking his mouth was on fire – I'd used a particularly potent blend of chili peppers I was gearing towards hot sauce for Gogron's Wrothgarian Chili-Cheese to do it. No one had traced it back to me, but it'd really only a matter of time, and I'm not eager to let the truth get out.

Nowhere in the Tenants does it say I have to put up with M'raaj's crap. Nor does it say I'm not allowed to strike back.

"What did you do?" he asked, looking shrewdly at me.

"Why do you assume I did anything?!" I asked, perhaps a bit too zealously. He's quite correct to assume…

Lucien gave me a 'you did do something, didn't you' look. I wasn't sure if he'd be amused or not, but when he's giving you that look…

"All right – I spiked M'raaj's secret stash of sweets with chili pepper extract. He deserved it! I've been putting up with his shit since I got here and I was tired of it!" I said in a rush – hating myself for spilling my guts. I crossed my arms and hunched slightly.

Lucien blinked, his expression rearranging into mild puzzlement, as if wondering if someone hadn't put something in my food.

"That…wasn't what you meant, was it?" I asked, realizing I had just succumbed to guilty conscience. Dammit.

"No, not at all…but thank you for sharing," Lucien said mildly, momentarily shaken out of his harassed preoccupation. "I need you to pass this along to Vicente…I need him to play stand-in for me," Lucien declared with an abrupt return to preoccupation.

"Where're you headed?" I asked with interest.

Lucien sighed. "North and east."

"Towards Morrowind?" I frowned and eyed his back suspiciously. There are two important things in Morrowind: Telvanni bugmusk, and the Morag Tong. One is good and one is not.

"It does lie in that direction.," Lucien said a little stiffly.

"Be…really careful," I said quietly. It begins to sound like something he'd have passed off to his gofer, if he could have. It sounds that way, because he was passing off his usual responsibilities to Vicente, and if there's one thing I know about Lucien, he won't let a field assignment he could delegate interfere with what he knows is his duty.

Plus – you know, one of us getting that close to Morrowind…I'm not sure how things stand but that would make me a little nervous. I mean, they obviously can't…don't…mess with us here in Cheydinhal, but…call it a rookie's concerns. They may be baseless, but they are there.

Lucien turned in his chair, scowled. "And what's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

I balked – I hadn't expected him to snap. I had expected an off-handed 'I'll be careful', like I give. It's what you say to let people know you're really paying attention to what's going on and not just larking around without a clue or care. But the bite in his tone was unmistakable, and I reacted in proper Sarielle form to being snapped at, out of hand. I got miffed. "What do you think I mean? I mean 'watch your ass'," I said sharply, scowling at him.

Lucien got up out of his chair but I held my ground and I realized why he was so unaccountably rankled – or at least part of it. My comment had been innocently meant, but apparently he didn't think so. "Look, I don't doubt your competence, if that what you're thinking. All I'm saying is that if you're going to be doing anything to or against the Morag Tong, then you might want to consider taking a little backup. That's all," I mean, I'd rather walk straight up to Adamus Phillida, call him a Family-hating ass and try to punch his armor full of holes with only my Blade of Woe than go after Morag Tong agents without some kind of contingency, or backup.

Like Vicente – don't underestimate those bums.

"Who said anything about the Morag…"

"Don't insult my intelligence!" I barked, feeling heat rise to my face – if I had accidentally stepped on his toes, he may well have just accidentally stepped on mine…but it was hard not to get rankled, when my most-commented on attribute is my intelligence. "You may be a field man at heart but you aren't one right now! You're a Speaker of the Black Hand, and the Tong would like nothing better than to knock you off, unless it's taking out our Listener! And if there's one thing I know about the..."

"What do you know about the Tong?" his voice was sharp with suspicion.

I could have punched him, right then and there, fortunately, I was only miffed and not incoherent with temper, so I didn't. "Stay put," I snarled and stormed to the barracks, grabbed the book I'd been reading off and on and stormed back and flung it down on Lucien's desk.

It was a Brotherhood treatise on the Morag Tong, their organization, internal workings – a 'know thy enemy' kind of book. "Tactics," I said sharply. "You're not immune to sneak attacks, Lucien –however great an assassin you are. And if it was a simple 'kill them off' you'd send one of us, so I can only assume that this is…is an information thing. And how the hell are you going to watch your back when you're busy asking the questions?" I asked. "Shit-damn!" it's a bad day if I string my expletives together.

"You're out of line…" It was very obvious he's not used to Family members being this…proactive. Then again, if he expected much else, he should have asked Antoinetta or one of the others.

"Was Vicente out of line, too? Because I can't believe he'd approve of this!" It's a low-blow, using the fact that Lucien still has a pupil's deference to his former master. "and it's not like you couldn't wake him if you wanted to..."

"No need for that, you've done the job admirably," Vicente's voice said from the doorway. He looked ill of temper and particularly malevolent. I backed away slightly, towards Lucien – Vicente's about as scary as I am when he gets woken early…"Sarielle, shush," he said, holding up a hand to indicate he was not in a mood to humor me if I pushed my luck.

I clenched my teeth, but shivered still, the image of Vicente up in my face, eyes glowing flashing in my mind's eye. I crossed my arm and listened to Vicente – who didn't have much to say, except that if we wanted to argue, that was our business, but not to wake the dead while doing so.

He withdrew and Lucien and I gave each other malevolent looks.

"So what now –you gonna sick the Wrath of Sithis on my…" I started, though some of the bite had left my tone, rendering me sounding tired and rather resigned.

"Kh," Lucien waved a hand, and I aborted the sentence. Maybe it wasn't such a great thing to invoke, but still.

I sighed and ran a hand over my hair. "I just…" It was my turn to hold up a hand. "I just don't think that it's a well thought-out plan, that's all. I consider you a friend, Lucien. And what kind of friend would I be, if I didn't tell you that this is the worst plan ever. It's a two-man mission, and you know it, unless you can ensure that no one can sneak up on you – and the Morag Tong's sneaky. That's all." How does he know it's not a trap? The Tong have used that tactic before, sending agents tantalizingly close and then taking out the assassin who went to investigate, or whatever.

I resisted the impulse to apologize, and sighed instead. "I don't doubt your skills –and I'm not a mother hen, to worry out of hand" I said dryly. It seemed to me like a lot of temper had left the room when Vicente called us down for being loud. "You may call yourself 'Lachance', but that's all it is, Lucien: luck. And luck is fickle and fleeting and one of these days it's going to up and walk off on you. This Family has lost enough people. You are our Speaker, our Brother, our friend – the blow would be devastating. It would kill Antoinetta. And then to whom would I be witty and clever?" I added, a vague ploy for sympathy, which actually seemed to work.

"To whom indeed?" he was still scowling slightly, but it was a more thoughtful scowl.

"Now, don't get too carried away," but I grinned as I said it.

Lucien then gave me a dazzling smile that was so sinister in its dazzling-ness that I knew he had just made a snap decision that was going to put some kind of crimp in my day. "Get you boots on," he cuffed my shoulder and turned toward his desk.

"Why?" The dumb question was out of my mouth before I could stop it, so I didn't actually see Lucien stop and turn – I had scrunched up my face and closed my eyes. Ask a stupid question…

"Such an attractive look, that. After all that fuss, you're still asking questions? Go get your boots," he said, though without as much frustration as before.

I knew better than to ask – though by now I rather suspected I was being conscripted as his lookout.

And so he could prove he was still field man, despite my assertions that that was not what this was about.

I had to admit, as I laced up my boots and slipped a dagger into the left one – I was curious. Part of me wanted to see him in action…see what kind of skill it took to claw one's way to the top. The small, very treacherous portion of my mind –that had been yawning and stretching sleepily these past few weeks – simply wanted to admire the view.

It occurred to me here…that there might have been a reason he'd chosen to leave word with me – knowing I'd tell him what I thought. It hinted that he might have had misgivings, and needed someone to strong-arm him into taking along backup…because he'd feel guilty about asking us to volunteer. And I had already proved that I have a tendency to volunteer, so long as I think it's my own idea.

Three steps ahead...hot damn! He's done it again!

I huffed as I gathered my things and met Lucien by the well entrance, scowling. "Why not just ask me? Wouldn't that be easier?" I turned and crossed my arms. "Would it kill you?"

Lucien's mouth twitched –I don't think he expected me to catch on before we were halfway to wherever. "Ask?" Lucien raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, ask," I said, following him up the ladder and out of the well. "You know 'hey Sari, I need a favor', and I'd say 'like what?'" I said then chuckled as I straightened my cloak and pack, looking around – coast was clear. "Come on," knowing that this was Lucien up to his old tricks and games again, made it easier to be friendly again. Anymore, I tend to feel that if he can manipulate me, it means I wasn't paying enough attention, and therefore, deserve exactly what I get. "It's not like a blow to pride to ask someone to do something…but if you're smart you'll think about things you should avoid asking. Or I might go back to that whole 'you're really pissing me off' track," I was half-joking, but I was sure he already knew it. It was sort of obvious.

His expression twitched, as if my good humor was infectious. Maybe it is. "We can't have that," Lucien's tone dripped sarcasm, but it made me smile even more broadly. Anything else would have been unexpected. "Well then," he twitched his mouth a little. "I need a favor," he didn't look at me when he said it, and it was obvious he was now playing what I would call 'our game'.

"I'm listening," I would never agree to something out of hand, firstly, it's a bad idea, secondly, it sets a bad precedent. Not that I thought Lucien would ask me to do anything I might have a problem with – but still. I can't let bad precedents get started…