Disclaimer: The characters of Jarlaxle, Entreri, the Underdark, Faerûn, the drow, and other aspects of Forgotten Realms are the creations of R.A. Salvatore. I seek not to steal from his creation but only to humbly expand. The character of Jarian however is my creation.

Artemis Entreri was in bliss. He had enjoyed two days of absolute privacy with no interruption from Jarian. Mind you, if Jarian had heard of Entreri's situation being referred to as bliss, then he would have gotten far too excited for his own good. More than likely Jarian would have attempted to combine his bliss with Entreri's. . .and things would have just gotten messy. Fortunately for Entreri, he was the quiet sort. However, he was also the suspicious sort.

Why has Jarian been so quiet? Is he up to something? Before he bothered me every few hours, using some excuse. . .no, I must not even think about that or him. Privacy is a pleasure that I delight in. . .and if Jarlaxle ever heard me think that, I would never hear the end of it. Well, since I've decided to think about Jarlaxle, he's been unusually. . .stagnant.

Entreri mused to himself quietly as he sipped his mushroom wine in a corner of the kitchen area. He had gone about his usual routine for the past few days with weapons training and various scouting missions. It had been a typical couple of days without being bothered and no matter how much he wanted to revel in it, every synapse in his mind screamed 'be wary! Something is not right!' Artemis Entreri did not listen to voices or his brain synapses, but he did listen to his instinct, the quiet assassin that lurked within, and it warned him to be vigilant and prepared.

A lithe drow walked over to him and sat across from Entreri, "Jarlaxle wishes to see you in his office."

Setting down his wine Entreri looked to the drow, "did he mention why?"

The drow suppressed a smirk, "No. He was quite secretive when I asked him. I do believe he had a vibrant outfit laid out for you."

Entreri glared daggers at the drow, "that's not amusing Navor."

Navor chuckled despite the assassin's glare. "Of course it is because it is not me. However, he does seem to be preparing for something and it seems to involve you."

Entreri went to drain the rest of his wine.

Navor smirked and asked, "so, dining alone without Jarian?"

Entreri nearly choked on his wine, but he swallowed it and maintained himself admirably. "If you're not careful Navor you will find my sabre in your flesh."

The drow laughed, "you should be so very careful with your words dear human. If a certain tailor heard that, I have a feeling he'd polish your sabre himself and see to it that it found itself in his flesh."

Entreri suppressed the urge to vomit, but his eyes glinted. "Careful Navor, I just may have to mention to Jarian that you want a new outfit."

The drow visibly twitched. "Sometimes I wonder about you human. You are more drow-like than you appear, perhaps that it why Jarian is enamored of you."

Entreri stood. "Don't remind me." Taking a breath he went to seek out Jarlaxle to find out exactly what that mercenary leader wanted.

Jarlaxle sat in his office, flipping through the crisp pages of a tome on his desk. When Entreri entered his office he let loose his typical Jarlaxle smile. "Greetings Entreri, why don't you ever enter my office with a smile? You always look so glum."

Ignoring his question Entreri simply stated, "you're up to something."

Jarlaxle feigned surprise. "Whatever would make you say such a thing?"

"I know you far too well for my own good," Entreri said with a hint of derision in his voice. "You have also been far too quiet these past few days."

Jarlaxle smirked and thought, you could know me more. However, Jarian would be quite jealous.

Entreri rolled his eyes as if Jarlaxle's thoughts were vocalized. After this long, Entreri could observe the expressions on Jarlaxle's face that hinted to the subtle perversions that the mercenary leader entertained in his mind. It was one of the few times he wished he wasn't so observant. "What do you want Jarlaxle?"

"A new harem of exotic-"

Entreri cut his desire off with a warning tone as sharp as a scimitar. "Jarlaxle. . ."

"Right, what I want from you," Jarlaxle settled back into his chair. "I wish to expand my repertoire of mercantile goods on the Surface."

"Go on," Entreri said settling himself in a seat opposite of Jarlaxle. This seemed safe so far.

"It has come to my attention that the city of Waterdeep is having quite the display of the latest clothing and fashions from around the Realms. I have been asked to represent the innovations that the drow are designing and to send my best tailor to display his wares. If all is a success then I can establish Bregan D'aerthe in this area of dealing, thus furthering my connection with those on the Surface and the amount of coin in my pouch."

Entreri started getting a very bad feeling about this plan. "Your best tailor?"

"Jarian of course," Jarlaxle said with an air of pride, "those who tailor me are only the best."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Jarian requires a bodyguard, someone with knowledge of the city, and someone who is not a drow, so as not to frighten the common folk," Jarlaxle trailed off staring at Entreri.

Entreri stood. "I refuse."

"You cannot refuse this mission Entreri," Jarlaxle said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Do not forget that you are indebted to me and must remain an active member of Bregan D'aerthe until I deem your use at an end."

Resisting the urge to kill Jarlaxle, "I'm not going alone with him."

Jarlaxle laughed breaking his serious behavior, "of course not! He'd never get anything done if he was left alone with you." He stood and walked over to the assassin. "He requested you specifically and you are the most qualified. I will see that you have your privacy and I will be present on the Surface when I am needed. I am sending a contingency of guards to secure the rooms we've been given and also some servants to carry Jarian's mobile tailoring room."

Entreri seemed to forget about the fact that he was to be Jarian's personal guard for the briefest of moments. "He has a mobile tailoring room?"

"As I said before, he is the best," Jarlaxle said with a twinkle in his eye. "Ready yourself Entreri, you leave with the coming of tomorrow."

Entreri bowed his head and left Jarlaxle's office with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. This was not good.

Jarian happily twirled about his tailoring room with a bolt of fabric, making it dance behind him as if it were a cloaked partner. "My work will soon be the talk of the Realms!"

Tazolg's white fur glowed fuchsia and fluttered its fairy wings excitedly. Jarian pat the little flying mouse's head. "And you my little darling will look simply luminescent in the Surface light."

Tazolg tilted its head and squeaked softly at Jarian, as if it was inquiring about something.

"Oh don't worry about that," Jarian said. "I can look stunning in the Surface light and not hurt my eyes, I have an outfit for that." He paused and imagined Entreri in the light. . .the image making him salivate. He would have his fun on the Surface. . .and he would have it in more ways than one.

Author's Note: It seems that I will just have to keep apologizing for the lateness of chapters. I was going to update and then I got sick, then exams, then an Anime convention trip. . .but hah! With my summer break in full swing, I am determined to write. The Surface idea has been brewing in my brain for months now and it just seemed so right to post now. Flowers are blooming, birds are singing. . .

Entreri: Please don't talk about blooming flowers. . .Jarian and Jarlaxle are standing right behind you.

Authoress: Oh please, they would have said it sooner or later.

Entreri:mutters:

Please review. . .if you do, you'll get a pretty bunch flowers from either….:

a) Entreri :he mutters and holds out a bouquet of carnations at arm's length, muttering 'assassins don't hold flowers':

b) Jarian :he grins and tosses petals into the air, posing languidly over a rock, a rose stem clutched between his teeth and a bouquet of them lying on his chest:

c) Jarlaxle :he smiles smoothly, running an orchid down his bare chest, his eyes looking over to a bed where the rest of the bouquet is lying as he pours a glass of wine:

d) The Authoress :she smiles and waves, edging away from the guys, lightly touching lilac petals with her fingers before presenting the bouquet: