It has been a lifetime since I updated. This will carry elements of the DLC in it. Cheers!
The file tucked into her bodice, Marcelline crept down the stairs on silent feet. Aphra was already outside, successfully over the fence and waiting on the other side for Marcelline to join her. Only a few Nauts had stirred during their search, though none had awakened with enough strength of mind to think much of seeing a woman dressed like her hugging Aphra, still disguised as a Naut. The mission was a success or would be once she made it over the fence.
Marcelline paused in the shadows of the landing. Something was wrong. Her eyes darted over the ground floor, taking in the various forms of Nauts slumped over in their sleep, trying to pinpoint what it was that tipped her off. Then she saw it. Or rather, saw them. A pair of hooded figures equally creeping in the shadows along the far wall. Ice shivered through Marcelline's veins. Who were these people? And why were they also capitalizing on their ploy? She was careful to skip over the creaking step as she retreated back upstairs. It didn't seem that they'd noticed her yet. But aside from crawling out a window, they were barring the only exit Marcelline knew of.
Hoisting her skirts to her knees, Marcelline tiptoed over the open floor of the second storey and hastened into the shadowed room closest to the corner of the building where she knew her friends would be waiting across the street. She had to squint to peer through the unwashed much of harbor dust on the window, but there they were, the small congregation of her allies still huddled in the shadows on the other side of the harbor. Glancing down, Marcelline could just make out Aphra as she slunk across the street to join the others. She frowned. Why would Aphra leave her…
Movement further to the left in the harbor had Marcelline's eyes darting over, catching sight of another group of hooded figures heading straight for the building. They walked with nefarious purpose, and Marcelline understood. Aphra had retreated for reinforcements. But if they launched an all-out assault to rescue Marcelline, whatever it was these people were after, that would jeopardize Vasco's standing with the Nauts, and this would all be for nothing. Marcelline ducked down when she heard movement on the stairs. She moved in a crouch further into the room, keeping her back to the wall and her eyes on the door. Why hadn't she closed the door?
Suddenly a warm hand snaked over her mouth, and Marcelline was roughly pulled back against the hard press of a masculine body.
"Sshh, De Sardet," the honeyed tones of Vasco's voice melted over her senses. Despite her confusion at his sudden appearance, Marcelline couldn't help but feel calmer at having him by her side, "there's a hidden trapdoor in the far corner."
He grew quiet when they both heard the stair creak, signaling the approach of one of the hooded figures. They didn't have time to retreat the way Vasco had come, not without displaying their route to whomever these people were. Glancing around and noting the slumbering Nauts sprawled in cots and across the floor, Vasco didn't explain before twisting Marcelline in his arms and laying them both down with his back against the wall. Her back was to the door, but his arms and legs were so tightly wound around her that, for a moment, Marcelline couldn't figure out which appendage was hers and which was Vasco's. He'd somehow cradled her head on his bicep, her face pressed intimately into the crook of his neck. It was strange. This sudden feeling of safety, of coming home, despite the uncertainty of the figures in the shadows and the precarious nature of their circumstances. Hearing his heartbeat, feeling his breath against her cheek, sharing the warmth of his body as they lay against the unforgiving cold of the wood planks in the dark, Marcelline's head spun. Was she going mad to feel these stirrings of desire for the man when their very lives could be at stake?
Vasco feigned a snorting jerk, and with this signal, Marcelline closed her eyes, mimicking a sleep-like movement of reaching back and scratching at her rear before resettling her hand back on Vasco's hip. She couldn't see them, but Marcelline felt one figure had entered the room and was looking around for something. Or someone. It took every ounce of her willpower not to tense up in preparation for a fight, but to instead remain placid and relaxed, as if in a drugged stupor. The steady rhythm of Vasco's heartbeat lent itself to keeping her calm, as did the momentary fantasy of imagining this embrace was real and not just a ploy against an unknown foe.
Marcelline wasn't certain how long they lay there, but sooner than she'd liked, or was it just in time, she felt Vasco move his hand away from her lower back when he'd kept his fingers neatly poised over one of her hidden daggers tucked into the belt of her skirt. Glancing up, she saw an almost amused smile tug at Vasco's lips before gently dislodging her from his arms and moving into a crouch. He held out his hand for her and waited until she took it before he led her to the furthest corner of the room and let go of her hand just long enough to open the nearly invisible trapdoor.
From there, it was only a matter of silently climbing down ladders and slinking through subterranean storage before they eventually made their way to a matching trap door that opened up further down the harbor closer to where the ships lay anchored. Vasco checked first before pushing the door fully open and helping Marcelline out. After silently closing the trapdoor, Marcelline helping him shift a crate back atop it, Vasco took her hand again and moved among the shadows back towards the harbor entrance where the others were waiting.
Truly, there was no reason for him to be holding her hand. If anything, they would both be more ready for a fight if their hands remained free of impediments. And yet, Marcelline was disinclined to let go and even gave in to the temptation to give his hand a slight squeeze. Vasco glanced back at her at the touch, the same languidly amused smile gracing his features. His fingers tightened their hold in return.
They continued in this manner until, eventually, they rounded the corner and found their friends. If anyone noticed their clasped hands, no one called attention to it. They were all far too interested in getting as far away from the harbor and the strange hooded figures as possible before first light. Following along behind Vasco and Kurt, Aphra and Siora flanking her sides as if to keep her safe, Marcelline's hand still felt the ghost touch of Vasco's fingers, and in her heart, she already yearned for another excuse to touch him.