Ladybug: Ladybug likes this chapter! It's full of yummy, yummy food! Ladybug wanted to join the party, but Pearl wouldn't let Ladybug…
Wakko: She's a killjoy like that, yes. We never get to have any fun.
Pearlyblue: Shut up! Aren't we self-inserting enough, already? I keep telling you: there's no room for us in this story, if you want to keep it the way it is!
Ladybug: *Pouts* Awww… Ladybug knows that… but still
Pearlyblue: No, okay? Wakko, will you please proceed to introduce the chapter?
Wakko: Will do. Okay, The Weird Ones acknowledges that Kentaro Miura owns Berserk in every way, and we do not wish to gain financially from this parody, in which we use many of Mr. Miura's characters. Our intention is entertainment, and not harm in any way. *Turns to Pearlyblue* Good?
Pearlyblue: *Thumbs up* Great.
Wakko: Also, it might be important to point out that we really let go in this chapter. Sylvia's Sue-powers are very noticeable.
Ladybug: Sparkly! Yaaaay!
Pearlyblue: Not so much sparkle, is there…?
Ladybug: Ladybug doesn't care! Ladybug thinks it should be sparkly, so it is sparkly!
Wakko: *Grins* It's not such a strange logic, actually… "Wakko wants it to be kinky, so it's kinky." I like it.
Pearlyblue: *Glares* You would. Anyway, the chapter…?
Wakko: Oh yeah… It's exceptionally weird, this time, but there's a big surprise at the end… so stay tuned. *Grins*
Ladybug: *Gasps* Oooh, Ladybug knows, Ladybug knows, Ladybug knows! *Jumps up and down, waving her arm*
Pearlyblue: Yes, of course we know, we're the authors. We don't get to guess, Ladybug!
Ladybug: *Pouts again* Awwww…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Chapter five: Sylvia cooks dinner.


Judeau watched with mounting confusion as Sylvia cleared the cooking-tent of its cooks and helpers, with the aid of a previously harmless broom.

"You don't have to work tonight," she told them cheerfully. "Take the evening off – Lady Gri- I mean Sir Griffith has ordered a special dinner!"

The chief cook stubbornly stood his ground, deflecting her broom with a handy cooking-pot. "Young lady," he exclaimed indignantly, his broad face turning red. "Might I remind you that Sir Griffith is not the only man in this camp who needs to eat!"

Sylvia relented her broom-poking for a moment, electing to lean lightly on it instead. "I know that, silly," she said with a brilliant smile, "I'll take care of it – don't worry! You have the evening off! Go! Have fun!"

The chief cook narrowed his eyes at her. "You'll take care of it?"

Sylvia laughed, like the sound of delicate silver bells. "Not alone, you silly, silly man! I have a special crew for this. Now, for the last time – you have the evening off, so go enjoy yourself! Shoo!"

The cook huffed, "'Special crew' huh…" but left without further fuzz. Once the tent was empty, Judeau tentatively walked over to Sylvia.

"Who are this 'special crew' you were talking about?"

She turned towards him with a big grin on her face. "You, silly!"

Judeau balked. "Me?! You and me?! Cook for over five thousand men?! Are you out of your…?"

She silenced him by pinching his nose. "You worry too much, Judeau. And anyway, I couldn't very well have let the cooks stay and help now, could I?"

"Why not?" Judeau asked, rubbing his nose.

"'Cause you told me to hide that I was a half-demon, didn't you?"

"And what ever does that have to do with kitchen-duty?!"

Sylvia poked his nose again. "Bip! You'll have to see!" When she turned away from him again, tough, she froze on the spot and gasped, "Oh, I almost forgot!"

A push and a shove later, Judeau was standing outside the tent, not quite clear on how that had happened. He turned back to the tent, meaning to poke his head back in and ask, but just as he reached out for the flap, Sylvia stepped out.

She struck a cute little pose, grinned and said, "Ta-daah!"

Sylvia was suddenly wearing an apron. A yellow apron, with a heart-shaped top and red frills around the edges. On the chest was written, in curly, red letters: 'Kiss the cook'. Her hair was tied back in a long braid and a red-and-yellow kerchief tied around her head was keeping her bangs back. Judeau could only stare.

"Well?" she asked after a moment of silence, twirling once before him. "What do you think?"

He blinked. "It's… nice. You look good. Where did you…? How…?"

"Oh, I had it with me," she chirped, "You know, just in case. You think it looks good?"

He nodded, still feeling a little stunned. "Yeah… It's cute."

"Cute?" She squealed happily. "Oh, thank you! You're so sweet!" And before he could react, she had stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then she swirled around and disappeared into the cooking-tent, leaving a temporarily paralysed and warmly blushing Judeau outside. It took him a few seconds to get back to himself, and once he had, he hurried to follow her into the tent.

Grown man, Judeau. Grown man. Act like one – get yourself together. It's just a – whoa!

Inside the tent, Sylvia had already started cooking. Pots were coming to a boil on every fire, meat was being chopped, flour was drifting through the air, and an enticing smell of frying meat and spices had already begun to spread through the large tent.

"Here, hold this!" Sylvia's voice chirped in his left ear, and a small bowl was pressed into his hands. He looked down into it and saw a thick, brown paste with a large spoon in it – still moving, as if stirring slowly.

"What's…?" But the moment he opened his mouth, he heard an enthusiastic "Taste this!" and felt a small finger slip in between his lips, covered in something sweet and sticky – which he immediately choked on, of course.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Sylvia worriedly exclaimed, patting his back. "I didn't mean to surprise you like that!"

"S'okay," he coughed, "s'okay… whoo boy…"

"Really? You're okay? I'm sorry, I'll give you a better warning next time!"

He looked up at her and smiled. "Yes, thanks. That would be nice."

"Okay!" And she was gone, the bowl she had been holding remaining in mid-air, the spoon in it still stirring. Judeau looked down into his own hands and noticed that he was no longer holding his bowl. He glanced over at the hovering bowl beside him again, but it was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Judeau surveyed the interior of the kitchen. At first glance, it looked as though pots were stirring themselves, dough turning on its own accord, and a strange, red-and-yellow blur flashing from spot to spot. Then, when he looked closer, Judeau saw that the red-and-yellow blur was, in fact, Sylvia – moving so fast that she appeared to be in several places at once, tasting something here, stirring something there, smelling something on the other side of the tent.

And then she was in front of him again, holding a small bowl of what appeared to be thick, white sauce. She stuck her finger into the bowl and scooped up some of its contents, holding it up before his face.

"Here, taste this!"

"Uhh… Lady Sylvia, I don't think… shouldn't…"

"Oh, come on," she said, firmly pushing the finger into his mouth. "I need to know what you think!"

"Mph…!" Judeau felt another blush coming on, and hung his head slightly to hide behind his bangs, glancing up at Sylvia.

"So?" she asked, unthinkingly licking the rest of the sweet sauce off of her own finger. Judeau almost choked again.

Grown man, grown man, grown man…

"It's… good. Sweet." He finally started to notice the taste, and gladly focused on that impression instead. "Hm… strange taste… good, but unusual – very… soft. And sweet. I like it."

Sylvia beamed. "Goodie!" And then she turned into a blur again.

"Um… Lady Sylvia…" Judeau tentatively tried to catch her attention. "About that tasting… I don't think it's very appro…"

"Can't – talk – right – now – busy – cooking!" Sylvia's voice came from a new direction with every word.

* * *

And he didn't get a chance to address the subject, either, despite several more 'tastes' and brief conversations about them. When two hours had passed, Judeau was so assaulted by impressions that he could hardly remember what it was that he had wanted to say in the first place.

That was why he didn't object when Sylvia lifted the table he was sitting on and carried it outside, twittering something about "It's lovely weather for eating out, isn't it?" It did, however, come as something of a shock when she suddenly threw the table to the ground and he rolled off, spilling out the entire bowl of sliced apples that he'd been munching on.

"Ouch!"

Sylvia was by his side in an instant. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Judeau! I'm really sorry! I guess I… shouldn't've tried to lift that big, heavy table all by my little old self…" She leaned down and added, in a slightly panicked whisper, "Especially not when Lady Griffith is watching!"

Judeau looked up at her, rubbing his sore backside. "Lady…? Ahh… Hello, Griffith!"

Griffith stopped beside them, looking down at Judeau and Sylvia with a very perplexed look on his aristocratic face.

"I thought I was… going to check in on your progress," he drawled, arching one delicate, white eyebrow at them.

"It's going fine, Lad- Sir Griffith!" Sylvia hastily replied, pushing one of her bangs back up under the kerchief. "I'm just about finished… was just about to set the table…" She giggled nervously and stood up, smoothing down her food-stained apron front. "I thought it would be nice to eat outside… what do you think?"

But Griffith was studying her apron with puzzled amusement.

"Kiss… the cook…?"

Sylvia tugged at the apron, as if trying to read it herself, and then looked up and laughed nervously again. "Yes, I… I thought it was… cute. Isn't it? Cute?"

"It looks good on you, Lady Sylvia," he said with a smile. "But I can't say that it's quite as cute as yourself."

She giggled and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You big silly…"

Griffith glanced over at Judeau, who had just gotten up and was still surreptitiously rubbing his backside.

"Do you need any help with the tables, Lady Sylvia? Perhaps someone a little stronger than my scout commander over there…"

Sylvia threw a glance over her shoulder and then beamed at Griffith. "Oh yes, please! Can I have Pippin? He's really strong!"

"Certainly. I'll tell him to report here right away."

"Thank you so much!" Sylvia gushed, but before he could turn away, she placed one flour-covered little hand on his arm. "Oh… and… can you please tell people to stay away from that field behind the cooking-tent? I'm going to set up the tables there, and I want it to be a surprise! Nobody can see!" A secretive, mischievous little grin sneaked onto her face. "Not even you, Sir Griffith."

He held her gaze for a while, but finally smiled with an indulgent nod. "All right, Lady Sylvia. As you please."

* * *

Pippin came, and he helped Sylvia carry all the tables out onto the meadow, while Judeau was left to keep an eye on the food. She chatted happily and endlessly with the huge man, who nodded, smiled, and occasionally added to the conversation.

Judeau couldn't help but feel that the big man was taking the Sylvia-business a lot better than he had. He was surprised to find a hint of jealousy coiling in his stomach, and immediately expelled it. Sylvia was not his business, nor did he really want her to be.

Finally, Sylvia and Pippin had carried all the food out, and Judeau helped with the last trays. When he put his burdens down, however, and looked up at the loaded tables, his jaw just dropped. How could she possibly have made all of this, in less than two hours, using only what was in the cooking-tent and the provision carts?

Impossible.

He exchanged an incredulous look with Pippin, and the giant man shrugged slowly.

"Dinner's ready!" Sylvia's cheerful voice rang out behind them, accompanied by the gentle tinkling of a triangle, which she was holding in one hand. She had also, somehow, managed to clean up, get rid of the apron and the kerchief, and done her hair up in small braids from her temples tied up behind her head. There were also small flowers in her hair, apparently picked fresh from the meadow, though Judeau had not seen her take the time to do so.

He found a silly half-smile on his lips and shook his head. Why was he even surprised, anymore?

And from all over the camp, soldiers came trudging in response to the dinner bell. Sylvia stood like a hostess in front of the cooking-tent, smiling and kindly directing them to go around, to the meadow. The men gave her and each other a few puzzled looks, but obeyed – and the moment the first few in the line turned the corner, there was an instant of complete silence, followed by eager whooping.

"Holy HELL! Look at all that food!"

"Where did it all come from?"

"Dude, who cares?! Can you smell that?"

"Man, I'm slobberin' already!"

Judeau grinned at the guys running past him, and walked over to the table that Sylvia had designated as the 'commanders' table', only to find a simple, yellow-ish note on each plate, with a name cutely scribbled on it in red letters. He found the one marked 'Judeau' – it had a little red heart in the upper left corner – and sat down, noticing that Sylvia had placed herself next to him. Pippin sat down almost at the other end of the table, picked up his name-note and smiled at it. Judeau thought he saw the big man's face turn a slight shade redder. Then Griffith arrived, trailed by Caska, Guts and Rickert.

Sylvia was walking ahead of them, waving and almost bouncing again, eagerly chirping "This way, this way!" Judeau couldn't help but snicker – the looks on their faces were priceless.

When Sylvia pulled out Griffith's chair for him, the white-haired commander turned to her, incredulously shaking his head.

"Lady Sylvia… I don't understand… this is truly amazing – how could you possibly create all this in such short time? And where did all these tables come from? Where did you get… How did you…?"

She then did something really strange: She leaned in closer to Griffith, shielding her mouth with one hand – though Judeau could still hear her – and whispered:

"Sssh, It's a plothole."

Griffith blinked at her, his eyes wide and clearly not comprehending, but she patted him on the shoulder and gave him another radiant smile.

"Don't worry, Sir Griffith, I can explain it later. Right now, you just need to eat and enjoy!"

With a courteous nod of acceptance, Griffith sat down, and Sylvia ushered all the others to sit as well. "Don't wait! Dig in! There's enough for everybody!"

The steady stream of mercenaries welling in onto the meadow certainly would not let themselves be told twice, but were loudly announcing what part they wanted to try first:

"Look at that heap of chicken legs! I want some of those!"

"What's this? Snake?"

"No, you dimwit, that's eel. It's really fancy, I've only seen it once when we were…"

"There's a whole freakin' mountain of fruit over there!"

"Not only there – look! There's one at every table!"

"Whoa, I 'ad no idea 'ere were fishies o' tha' colour, let alone tha' size! An' I've been a fisher, once!"

"What are those yellow things around it?"

"Fey're fery thour… but good viv the fith"

"Look! Haha! I've got PIES!"

Sylvia beamed as she sat down next to Judeau, with Griffith on her other side. "They really seem to like it!" she whispered eagerly.

Judeau smiled back at her. "Who wouldn't?"

Then his heart made an unexpected flip as Caska sat down on his other side.

"You two have gotten quite friendly, haven't you?" she said, giving him an unsurprised look. He smiled, trying to buy time while thinking of the right thing to say, and getting the dryness out of his mouth.

But Caska didn't wait for a reply. She picked up the name-note and turned it towards Sylvia.

"How cute," she said, most insincerely, "A little flower in the corner."

Sylvia nodded happily. "Uh-huh! Pippin got a teddy-bear, Griffith got a little hawk, Guts got a sword ("Is that what this's supposed to be," muttered Guts from the other side of Griffith), Rickert got a star, cause he's just as cute as they are (Rickert blushed again, firmly looking away from Sylvia as he sat down next to Caska), and Judeau got a little heart! 'Cause I like him best!"

Caska nodded to herself with a small smile. "Really, now."

Judeau wanted to bang his head against the table.

Sylvia nodded again. "Yep! He's been really friendly!"

Judeau tried to pretend that his ears weren't burning, as he felt every eye within earshot turn to him. Caska sounded faintly amused as she quietly murmured:

"I bet." She leaned over closer to him, and he almost had to close his eyes as he felt her breath against his ear. "So you've got yourself a new girlfriend, have you? Congratulations. You're sure to be the envy of the camp, now."

If I turn my head now, Judeau thought, her lips will be right… he tried not to think about it, but then the words she had just said reached his brain, and he did turn his head – but leaned back and forced a smile onto his face.

"Now, don't jump to conclusions, Caska. Lady Sylvia and I are friends, that's all – She asked me to help her blend in around here, and I said I would. So she declared that I was now her new best friend." He shrugged. "That's the whole story, and I'm sticking to it."

Caska didn't look too convinced, but at that moment Sylvia squealed happily and stretched across the table, towards six golden balls that Judeau had thought was simple decoration.

"Sir Griffith, you just gotta try this! They're called blood apples and they're from where I live. I had some with me, luckily enough…"

Griffith cautiously eyed the golden fruit in her hand. "Blood apples? I've never heard of such a fruit before."

"Nah, they're rare. They only grow on old battlefields, you see, and if you eat too many, you'll have nightmares."

Griffith gave her a perplexed look. She smiled and pleaded with him:

"Oh, come on… have a bite, at least… for me?"

She was holding the apple almost to his lips now, and he couldn't possibly refuse those pleading eyes. He took the golden fruit from her and smiled.

"All right."

Sylvia beamed happily at him and, feeling oddly pleased at having made her smile like that, Griffith took a bite.

The taste was exquisite. Unlike anything he had ever tasted before. It was like the finest wine, the sweetest grape, the juiciest apple. It was like spring, and birdsong, and clear, starlit nights. Fresh like newly fallen snow, refreshing like a cold bath on a hot summer day.

His eyes widened and he looked at Sylvia as if he had never seen her before. "This… this…" He couldn't find the words to express what he wanted to say, but she just smiled at him.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

He turned to Guts and wordlessly handed the big man another blood apple. Guts took it, but hesitated to eat.

"Your… your face…" the big man stuttered awkwardly. Griffith brought his hand up to the small trickle of fruit juice that ran from the corner of his mouth and was startled to find that it was the same dark crimson as freshly spilt blood.

"Yeah," said Sylvia from behind him. "That's why they're called 'blood apples'. It's not real blood, though, you silly."

With varying degrees of hesitation, everybody at the table tasted their blood apple, and each had a reaction similar to Griffith's. They were gone all too soon, and Pippin shyly leaned forward over the table, looking at Sylvia, and asked in his deep, dark voice:

"Do you have any more?"

"Sorry Pippin," Sylvia answered. "I don't… and it's really best if you don't get any more. I'm not sure exactly how many blood apples a huma- errr… you guys should eat. And I don't have any more."

With a few sighs and grumbles, the party resumed eating of the other food – which was very good in itself, and the mood was soon back on top again.

"Psst! Judeau!" Sylvia hissed after a while, turning the blond man's attention away from his polite conversation with Caska. Pressing a small bowl into his hands, she gave him a not-very-subtle wink and continued whispering: "I made this especially for you…" She winked again. "…And Caska!"

He glanced down and saw that the bowl was full to the brim with strawberries, covered in some unfamiliar, rich brown substance. He gave Sylvia a questioning look, and she winked at him again. "It's chocolate-covered strawberries! They're really romantic and good!" He frowned at her, and she winked once more. "Dark sweets for a dark sweet, no?"

"You're not very good at flirting, you know," came Caska's voice from behind him. Judeau closed his eyes and wished that the ground would just rise up and swallow him.

"But I'm not flirting…" Sylvia sounded very confused. "Judeau, was I flirting again?"

Only a severe exercise of willpower prevented Judeau from banging his head against the table, this time. He opened his eyes and gave Sylvia a serious glare.

"I want to talk to you later," he growled under his breath. Sylvia's confused frown deepened a little.

"Okay. But… are you going to give her the sweets, or what?" She nudged him. "Go on!"

He straightened up and turned back to Caska, painting a genuine smile onto his face.

"Actually, she was giving me this." He held the bowl up for Caska to see. "She wants me to share them with you. Have one."

Caska frowned down into the bowl. "What is that… on them…?"

"Chocolate, she called it. I don't know, I've never tried it before."

"Then you try it first, she's your girlfriend."

He stifled a sigh and obediently took one of the berries and popped it into his mouth. It was surprisingly good – the strawberry was ripened to perfection, and the slight bitterness of the 'chocolate' complimented it excellently.

"Mmm…" Judeau mumbled, taking another and holding it out to Caska. "Mthey're mreally good!"

Caska regarded him suspiciously for a moment, but took the berry nonetheless and tasted it gingerly. Right when her eyes began to widen appreciatively, Sylvia tugged on Judeau's sleeve again.

"Not like that!" she hissed. "It's a lot more cute if you give them to her like this!" And by way of demonstration, she pressed one chocolate-covered strawberry against his lips. There was a small, collective gasp all around, and Judeau's ears almost caught fire.

"Yeah..." mumbled Caska behind him. "Not your girlfriend at all."

Sylvia leaned out and peered around Judeau. "Exactly!" she chirped, "We're just friends!"

"Riiight…"

Judeau resolutely took the strawberry from Sylvia with a strained smile. "Thank you, Lady Sylvia."

She tilted her head to side in confusion, but before he could say anything more, her eyes locked onto something behind his back and widened as if in shock.

"Oh my GOD," she hissed, "It's HIM!"

She forcefully grabbed on to Judeau's arm and began shaking it, still whispering loudly: "Who is he, who is he, who is he, who is he?"

Completely taken by surprise, Judeau turned around, just in time to hear a hoarse but happy voice loudly declare:

"So this is where you've all been hiding! Where the flying fuck did you get all this food! Hah, did the old chief cook finally kick it, and we got one that could actually cook instead?"

It was Corkus, arriving late along with a few others of his team, all noisily requesting their comrades to save some for them, despite the obvious overabundance of food all around. Judeau turned back to Sylvia in confusion. "Who?"

She squeezed his arm. "That one! The tall, dark, handsome one, with the nose! Ohhhh!"

"Ow, Sylvia, ow! You're breaking my arm!"

"Oh, sorry, sorry! But please tell me who he is! You promised to introduce me!"

Rubbing his arm, Judeau glanced over his shoulder again.

"The one with the… nose?"

"Yes!"

"And dark hair?"

"Yes!"

"The one with the hoarse voice?"

"Ooooh, YES!"

"Corkus?!"

Her eyes widened and began to sparkle like they had never done before. "Is that his name?" She heaved a dreamy sigh. "That sounds so manly! …Oh my god, he's coming over here!"

And so he was. Having snatched up a chicken leg and a big, red apple, Corkus was slowly walking up to the table, alternately taking bites from either. Sylvia was almost trying to hide behind Judeau, squeezing his arm painfully hard again.

"Hey Griffith!" Corkus called, waving the chicken leg, "Awesome food! Hey Judeau, who's the babe?"

Sylvia immediately went beet red under Corkus' appreciating gaze, and squirmed as though she was suddenly sitting on an anthill. Judeau, still unable to believe what was happening here, kept looking hesitantly between Corkus and Sylvia. Griffith took the cue, instead:

"This is Lady Sylvia, Corkus. She will be staying with us for a while." His voice and face were completely void of the incredulous tentativeness that had all the other occupants of the table in a stunned silence, but he was not unaffected, himself.

So maybe she really wasn't flirting with Judeau, after all, he thought and fought off a small frown. But really – She is attracted to Corkus? Tsk… she must be even more confused than I previously suspected.

The hook-nosed mercenary seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had become the table's centre of attention, instead leering down at Sylvia's ample bosom.

"Niiice… we're finally gonna have a real woman around."

Sylvia just giggled stupidly, but Judeau noticed how the air around Caska suddenly became very frosty.

Sylvia finally seemed to get herself together – at least somewhat – and rose from her seat.

"Mi- mister Co- Corkus," she stuttered, still blushing furiously and with a silly smile on her face, "I- I put your seat o-over there… let me show you…" She stumbled over the legs of her own chair when she tried to walk away from it, but quickly steadied herself and blushed even deeper. "S- sorry…"

Corkus sent Judeau a 'Did you see that? I'm half in already!' –look and followed her, checking out her swinging hips from behind. When she turned around, he made no effort to hide what he'd been looking at – and Sylvia's face deepened even further in colour. She pulled his chair out a little bit and cleared her throat.

"Well… he- here it is… I… I hope you like it."

Corkus walked up closer to her and waggled his eyebrows. "It'd be better if it was next to you, toots."

Sylvia looked up into his face with fluttering eyelids. "Really?" she asked breathlessly, "You… you really mean that?"

"Fuck, yeah." He grinned and sank down into the chair, still leering at her. "In fact, why don't you sit on my lap?" And his grin widened as he patted his thighs invitingly.

"Really?!" Sylvia gushed exuberantly, and promptly plopped down into Corkus' lap. If there had been a sound for dropping jaws, the meadow would have resounded with it. Even Corkus blinked in surprise, before a giddy grin wrought its way onto his face.

"Well, that was just a joke, you know, but if-"

"Oh my god!" Sylvia gasped, flying to her feet with both hands clasped firmly over her mouth. "I'm sorry! I keep doing that… misunderstanding… so sorry… ohgodohgodhogod…" She ran over to fetch her own chair, completely missing Corkus' weak protests. The hook-nosed mercenary slapped his own forehead, mouthing a curse.

Meekly returning with her chair, Sylvia sank down at the edge of the table, next to Corkus, and didn't seem to be able to look up into his face. "'M sorry," she mumbled.

Corkus tried his best to turn the situation around again. "It's no problem, really. I mean, if you really want to sit on my lap, who the hell am I to argue? Huh?"

She twiddled with the hem of her tunic and cleared her throat again. "It's okay, you don't have to try to be nice. Hrm. So, how do you like the food?"

Corkus heaved a defeated sigh and turned back to the table. Then he looked from the food to Sylvia, finally making the connection.

"Hey… you cooked this?"

Sylvia nodded, still blushing and not looking up.

Corkus looked around in amazement. "Whoooa… nice job! Are you the new chief cook, or what?"

Sylvia finally looked up at him through her bangs and gave a little smile. "Well…" she mumbled shyly, "Really only just this once… so far… it depends…"

Corkus sampled one of the fishes, speaking as he chewed:

"Mwell, you schould cook efery fuckin' day! Thisch is jusht fuckin' incredible!"

Sylvia smiled again. "Thank you. Oh!" She suddenly turned with some of her usual cheerfulness, and grabbed one of the smaller bowls. "That fish goes a lot better with this sauce – here, taste!"

She had dipped her finger into the sauce and was holding it up to Corkus' lips. Corkus just stared at her as if he couldn't believe his luck. Judeau made half an attempt to call Sylvia's attention, but realised that he was far too late… again. He leaned back, regretting that he hadn't tried harder to explain that gesture's great possibility for misinterpretation, before – he was convinced that Sylvia had no idea of just how flirty she was being. Then again, she did seem to want to flirt with Corkus, for some odd reason…

And Judeau was quite certain that he was not the only one who felt a strange surge of jealousy at that thought.

A big grin broke out on Corkus' face, but he barely got to say more than: "Hey, are you…" before Sylvia happily pushed her finger into his mouth, chirping:

"Why are you hesitating? It's good!"

An odd silence had begun to spread outwards from the commanders' table. Men at the nearby tables were turning away from their food, eyes popping, jaws forgetting to chew. A few knives slipped out of un-attentive fingers. Corkus' eyes boggled at Sylvia.

"See?" Sylvia cheerfully purred. "Wasn't that good?"

Corkus blinked at her, momentarily stunned, lips slightly pursed, then grinned as though he'd just won himself a kingdom. "Baby…" he laughed hoarsely, leaning in towards her…

"Corkus, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Every eye turned to Griffith, who had risen from his seat. There was no emotion in his clear voice, nor any on his sculpted face, but there was something about the way he stood – with his back as straight as if he was standing to attention, and his deep blue eyes unblinkingly fixed on Corkus – which exuded a very commanding presence.

Corkus guiltily looked from Griffith to Sylvia and back again. "But I…" he tried weakly, pointing at Sylvia. "…I'm… kind of busy, here…"

"Now," Griffith said, his voice only slightly more authoritative, "It is important, and urgent."

"Oh poo," muttered Sylvia under her breath, "Just when I was starting to have fun."

Corkus looked like he wanted to plead further with Griffith, but knew better. He sighed deeply and got up, turning back to Sylvia with a grin that he probably thought of as 'charming'.

"I'll be right back, babe. Stay where you are."

Sylvia smiled radiantly up at him and waved.

"I'll be waiting!" she said in a singsong voice, and with a last, mournful look over his shoulder, Corkus followed Griffith away from the meadow.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ To be continued…

Pearlyblue: Okay, let's introduce our readers to another annoying feature, shall we? Wakko, can you guess what I'm thinking about?
Wakko: *Leers* Oooh, but Pearrrll…
Pearlyblue: Stop. It. You know what I meant!
Wakko: Killjoy. Yeah, my guess is, since you're asking ME… review whoring?
Ladybug: Whoring? What's that? Is it like riding? "Horsing"?
Pearlyblue: Errrrr… *Blushes* something like that, yes.
Wakko: *Grins* But with one crucial difference, though…
Pearlyblue: Shut up, Wakko. Please. Anyway, would you like to demonstrate, Ladybug? Like I told you?
Ladybug: Uh huh! *Clears throat* Ummm… "We wants fifty-seven and a half more reviewsies, or we're not gonna write the next chapter! So REVIEW!!! OR ELSE!!!"
Pearlyblue: Well… er… good example.
Ladybug: But Pearl, how are we going to get that many reviewsies? It's impossible…
Wakko: Yeah, let's just say five.
Pearlyblue: But NO! It was just for demonstration, not an actual request!
Ladybug: *Looks confused* Ladybug doesn't understand…?
Pearlyblue: *Whams head against wall* Y'know, never mind. Let's just get on to reviewer responses, okay?
Ladybug: Yaaay!
Wakko: Okay, I go first! Thunder Mistress was fast, this time. *Clears throat* Sister, let me get one thing straight, here! I – did – not – cry! I don't cry! Anybody who told you I cried has been lying to you! Anyway, Guts is back where he belongs…
Pearlyblue: What?
Wakko: …Err… back in the story, of course. Where else would he be? *Turns to Ladybug* By the way, where did you put my demon-strength restraining chains?
Ladybug: Umm… Oh! Those! *Picks out a long, heavy chain from her ladybug-shaped purse* Here! Thanks for letting Ladybug borrow them!
Wakko: *Stares* What… have you done with my chains?!
Ladybug: *Beams* They were boring, so Ladybug prettied them up! Does Wakko like it?
Wakko: *Near tears* But… but they're… pink… and- and- and fuzzy!
Ladybug: *Nods happily* Uh huh!
Pearlyblue: Okay, never mind that, we have reviews to respond to.
Ladybug: Oooh! *jumps up and down* Ladybug's turn, Ladybug's turn, Ladybug's turn!
Pearlyblue: Yes, already! Do it!
Ladybug: Yaaay! Um, okay, thank you gundamgirl66 for your reviewsie! Ladybug thinks Rickert is cute too! *Giggles*
Pearlyblue: Okay, my turn. There was one for each of us this time! Niclas: We are glad to be entertaining you, but really, what kind of creature do you think Sylvia is? She wouldn't eat humans! …Hopefully…
Ladybug: Uh, nooo… wasn't that her mother who did that icky sort of thing?
Wakko: *Sobs over her pink, fuzzy chains* I will never let her near my stuff ever again…
Pearlyblue: *Mumbles* Ooh, I've never heard that before…