Disclaimer: Drizzt does not belong to me.

A/N: I'm not sure if I like this chapter and maybe I'll change it later, but this is my first attempt at writing something directly sexual so I guess there's room for improvement.

Nightly visitor

When I wake from my reverie shortly before dawn, I'm presented with the unexpected sight of a very determined and angry Drizzt Do'Urden sitting on a chair next to my bed. How long has he been there? I don't like the thought of him watching me when I'm this helpless. Maybe I should start warding my quarters properly. But despite my misgivings I refuse to let him see my surprise and merely raise an eyebrow as if it isn't all that unusual for him to be here.

"I have a plan." He says and when he doesn't continue I enquire: "And this plan happens to involve me?"

"Would I be here if it didn't?" He replies with a frown.

"Well," I drawl "You could be here for the pleasure of my company like some other people I know."

"Your company is not in the least pleasurable to me."

At this I smile. "Really? I seem to remember you telling me something different."

I probably should not tease him like this, but I cannot resist when the opportunity is offered to me on a silver plate. He shows no reaction though and continues as if he has not heard me.

"Nonetheless I require your assistance in staging my death."

I must confess I did not expect him to come up with such a cunning plan. It's perfectly simple, but at the same time accomplishes all he could want for. When everybody believes him dead he will not only escape the girl, but I won't be able to go after him either, at least not without arousing suspicion about my involvement. For me to vanish just after he turns up dead would be as good as a confession.

He looks at me strangely and I realize that I have not spoken for quite some time.

"Where would you go?"

"None of your business."

Yes I expected that response, I had to be sure though, for some strange reason even I don't understand completely. And seeing that he's already here I guess I can just as well start to make him pay immediately. There are still a few hours left before everybody else wakes up and I'm not one to waste valuable time. There's not much left anyway if we proceed with this plan of his.

"Fine." I nod curtly. "Now strip."

He's not surprised. Of course not, he came here prepared to do exactly this, knowing the price I ask for my help, but apprehension is written all over his fascinating, ebony features as he proceeds to take off first his shirt, the soft boots and the trousers. I sit, still in bed and watch trying to commit every precious second to memory as more and more of the smooth black skin is revealed.

When all of his clothing lies discarded on the floor he just stands there, arms crossed, waiting for me to make the next move, ready to obey my wishes. At least I like to think so.

"Come here and kneel." I tell him, motioning towards a spot next to my bed, while sweet anticipation is pooling somewhere in my stomach. So close, I can already smell him, a mix of wood and wind with a faint note of rain, but I restrain myself just a little bit longer and just lean closer to inhale the intoxicating scent.

"When this is over, will you take other lovers?" I ask quietly and he answers with a bitter laugh.

"What? Are you afraid that someone else could take your place? I would not have expected you to be jealous Rashiel."

I shrug. "Not jealous, merely curious. Would you willingly renounce the pleasures of the flesh after knowing what ecstasy your body can be made to feel?"

And without giving him the chance to answer I pull him into a long demanding kiss. But inwardly I am wondering, could I really be jealous? I don't like the thought as it would make me vulnerable and give him something to use against me, if he should wish to do that.

When we part both of us are breathing harder. He has started to tremble slightly and I can feel the strong pulse of blood under the soft skin as I slowly lick my way up his throat, one hand trailing down the back.

"How do you want to die?"

"Preferably fast if you don't mind."

So he has not yet lost his sense of humour. Good, he will probably need it, if he wants to watch his own funeral.

"Well, we'll still have to set something up, because no one will believe that you just committed suicide and I have to make some preparations."

"Preparations?"

"Yes. In order to produce a convincing corpse I'll need some of your hair."

I love his hair, love to run my fingers through it like I am doing now, a mass of white curls, resembling the clean, fresh snow on a lonely mountain. I have often wondered why Drow have such a peculiar hair colour. It is so distinctive and hard to hide, especially in the incomplete darkness of a moonlit night that some of them still claim as their birthright. The stark contrast of white hair against the dark black skin fascinates me, day and night united in one being.

"How long?"

He looks at me questioningly, but I don't answer until he follows my silent order and gets in the bed, lips compressed into a thin disapproving line. He has learned the rules of our little game, there's always a price to pay even if he doesn't like it. The presence of another warm body next to me is overwhelming for a second. I have been alone for so long I can hardly keep myself from taking him right now, but that's not what I really want and therefore I limit my range of attack to one nipple, content to be rewarded with a low moan.

"You're not so disgusted now, are you."

My statement is met with a set of narrowed purple eyes.

"How long?"

"Give me four days to prepare." I answer sighing, but not without adding: "And one night of payment."

"Bastard. I'm here now, is that not enough for you?"

"No. You don't seem to mind all that much, and seeing your reactions I'd even say that you are enjoying what I do, so stop whining."

At this his expression turns indignant. "But this is wrong!"

After trying hard to hold back my laughter and failing magnificently, I finally collapse giggling helplessly. This is wrong, really?

"What is so funny?" He hisses angrily before my hand finds its way between his legs. His arousal is obvious and when my touch becomes more insistent he can only gasp, all protest swept away now by the feelings that are assaulting his sensitive nerves. Soon his body is arching upwards after he has lost the inner battle for self control. He looks so intense, so captivating and I can see that he is near completion.

"If this is wrong, I should stop now, shouldn't I?"

The taunting whisper next to a dark pointed ear is answered by a defeated moan.

"Say it. Say that you want this."

But he only moans once more managing to leave the damning words unsaid. For now.