"So…Did we get the gig?"
"We? Don't look so hopeful Rif. There was never a "we"."
The young man rolled his eyes, placing a hand on his hip. "Oh, shut up. Did us as two different human beings get the gig?"
'Gig'?! Where do these men come up with such nonsense. "Yeah. We got it. Damn fool wouldn't pay us in full."
She threw off her jacket, turning to stalk into the kitchen. Rif just watched in silence.
"What he pay us then?" The 28 year old asked, flopping back into a worn chair.
"Twenty down. The jerk doesn't trust us Rif. Simple as that."
"Blade, I wouldn't trust us." 'Who would? Mercenaries in this type of society just don't have a very high popularity. Or trust.'
"Yeah, well, this pigs killed before, he steals from his own men. I don't trust him. He's got nothing to fear. 'Cept us taking the money and running."
"Sadly, your honor doesn't give you enough sense to do just that." He would have in a heart beat, that was for sure. The type of cash they were raking in? Who wouldn't. Of course, there was a downfall. The authorities were after them for murders, thefts. Luckily Blade hadn't give out their name. Sensible woman. Smart.
"Look, I didn't grow up like you did." She appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a boot in her hand. "Don't give me that complaint again."
"Whatever. So who is it this time?"
Blade shrugged, " He didn't say. Passed out late into the evening, just as I was getting to that. A few of his men kicked me out of the bar, dragging their boss upstairs. Don't know how they managed it though." She shrugged, tossing her shoes into the corner and returning to the kitchen.
Rif ran fingers though his black hair, letting it fall in front of his eyes. Blade wasn't the woman's real name. Well, not really. It happened to be a nickname for her. He didn't know her name. Like everything else she owned or claimed as her own, she kept to herself. That included the name.
But, the nickname Rif had given her had stuck, and she used it for everything. Iris Blade. By now he couldn't remember how "Iris" came to be. Blade was simple enough- Rif had almost become a new sheath for her sword when they first met.
"Do we have any food in this place?!" Blades voice called from the kitchen, the sound of cupboard doors slamming following her.
Rif moaned and pulled himself to his feet, going to pull on his own boots. "I'm going sweet heart, I'm going."
"Rif!" He quickly pulled on his tall boots, and snatched up his jacket, and was out the door before the woman could complained about him again.