By: jmi
Description: An evening of relaxation for Artemis is spoiled when Jarlaxle gets his first taste of sugar.
Disclaimer: Artemis Entreri and Jarlaxle are the property of R.A. Salvatore and Wizards of the Coast. And even though I am quite poor I will not make any money from writing this. No infringement of copyright is intended.
Author's Notes: This fic is written purely to fit the humorous situation laid out in the Livejournal "What's Your Filling" ficathon.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Prancing Pink Pony was easily the finest establishment the odd couple had been in for the last six months. And although Silverymoon was too close to Mithral Hall and that damned Drizzt Do'Urden for Artemis Entreri's taste, he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, the honorable drow's reputation in the city had certainly made it easier for his own not-so-honorable companion to not only get into the city but get them a room without the usual panic and grabbing of torches and pitchforks that heralded their arrival at civilization. For the first time in all the years he'd known the flamboyant drow, he was certain that the curious stares Jarlaxle received as they had made their way through the streets were not caused by his inky black skin but his ridiculously bright cloak, garish jewelry and velvet purple hat complete with damage-resistant feather.
He glanced across the table to the momentarily quiet drow and felt his stomach turn. Why Jarlaxle bothered having his steak cooked at all was beyond Artemis. He was certain that if he stuck his own fork across the table and stabbed the drow's meal, it would moo. Thankfully, his own well done steak, seasoned heavily with garlic, was already finished so his appetite didn't suffer from the culinary quirks of his companion.
"Well now, gents," their busty serving wench smiled and set two full mugs of ale in front of them. "...will ye be likin' some dessert after your meal? Beniln's been concocting what is sure'n to be the finest pastry you'll find in all Faerun."
"Nothing," Artemis shook his head, content now with a full stomach, a cold drink, and the hope that Jarlaxle would find at least one of these serving girls attractive enough to follow to their room... leaving the assassin in peace for the night.
"Wha isit?" Jarlaxle asked as he finished the last bloody bite of his steak.
"Oh tis a wonderful treat," the girl turned her charms on the dark elf much to Artemis' amusement. Here was a novice at charm teasing a master. "Tis flakey and has some of the sweetest fruit to be had in these parts."
"Not the sweetest I'm sure," Jarlaxle leered and made sure his black skinned hand brushed the girl's as she gathered their plates. Artemis surpressed a sigh but rolled his eyes as the girl began to giggle. The familiar sound didn't escape the elf's sensitive hearing and he leaned around to gaze at his friend. The visible red eye lit up in a way that immediately set Artemis on edge. He knew that look all too well. "Why I'd love to sample all the sweets this establishment has to offer," the dark elf smiled, fixing his gaze on the girl.
"Do you have any idea what you ordered?" Artemis frowned and realized he had finished his glass of ale already.
"Oh 'tis a wonderful treat'," the drow smirked and slid the magical patch to cover his other eye. "At least here I don't have to worry about my food being poisoned. Perhaps I should send a nice post to Drizzt while we're in the area and express my gratitude for the fine name he's giving our kind?"
"You really do want me to kill you, don't you?" Artemis whispered icily, his gaze alone normally enough to cower most men.
"No I'd like you to share my treats with me," Jarlaxle laughed, utterly immune to the assassin's best efforts at intimidation. "After all I've enjoyed yours often enough."
"Not on your long life, you letch," Artemis surpressed a shiver at the mere thought. It was bad enough more than one night in the wild he had be beat the drow away with a stick, losing the fight more often than not. Sharing the drow's bed with another person held no appeal for him at all. He wondered as the girl returned if he couldn't pay her a few gold to lure the drow off for the night.
Jarlaxle's eye lit up as he stared at the biscuit shaped, sugar covered thing on his plate. Curiously he picked up a fork and pushed it around as if he expected it to sprout legs and scurry away like a spider.
"Nine hells will you just pick it up and take a bite," Artemis scowled and motioned for her to bring him another ale.
With a shrug the drow picked up the treat gingerly, balanced it between his slender fingers, and bit down. Hard.
Creamy red liquid shot out in a jet across the table. For all his cat like reflexes the stream caught Artemis Entreri unprepared as no enemy's blades had ever done. It struck him full in the face and dripped down through the rough stubble of his jaw. For a moment he almost considered it worth it for the look of utter shock that covered Jarlaxle's face and seeing the tremor in the drow's fingers as they reached out and wiped some of the syrupy juice from Artemis' face. His amusement was short lived.
Almost the instant that Jarlaxle licked the sugar laiden liquid from his fingertips his visible eye began to glow in a way that reminded Artemis of how they appeared when the elf used his infavision to see in the dark. His unease mounted quickly as that glowing eye fixed directly on him. "My poor Artemis. Look at the mess I've made of you," Jarlaxle purred and started to come over the table at the human. "I insist on taking you upstairs and cleaning you up."
The innkeeper later totalled the damage at several dozen gold for the broken dishes, table and door that resulted from the notorious mercenaries' sudden departure.