Chapter 8: Reforged

Rana

Six hours till dawn, and the assault on Sendai's Enclave

Dearest Anomen,

I'm writing to you because I have nowhere left to turn. Saerk Farrahd, our father's old business nemesis, has begun pressuring me to sell the family estate.

It started with a formal, and friendly enough, overture at a banquet I attended in the Temple District some time ago. I told him I would consider it, but not to hold his breath. This is our home, and regardless of how much pain these walls have seen, it has beared witness to our entire lives. This is where our mother lived and died.

Last month, he came by and proposed, explaining that his wife passed away from an illness and he would like to remarry. And since I was hesitant to sell the estate, marriage would mean it would be his without my having to relinquish it. Even if he wasn't twice my age, or a renowned scoundrel, I still would have thrown his proposal in his face. These past couple of years, since father's passing, have allowed me to discover who I really am and what I want in this life. Wedded servitude to that ruffian is not it.

Now, I believe he's begun to make attempts on my life. Just the other day, while I was on my way home from visiting a friend, a horse-drawn carriage careened out of control and nearly flattened me. If it wasn't for the quick thinking, and magics, of a sweet gnome who had been passing by just at that moment, I would surely be dead. When I looked around, trying to discover the source of what had scared the horses so badly, I saw two of Saerk's bodyguards leaving the area.

There have been strange men lurking just outside of the light cast by the braziers at night. My guards are vigilant, and well-paid, but I fear it's only a matter of time before something happens to me.

I know you have great responsibilities and important duties to attend to, in whatever part of this world this letter finds you in, but please, dear brother, if you can, please return home. I would feel much safer with you here to protect me.

Please.

Your loving sister,

Moira

"You've outdone yourself, Safana. The handwriting matches the others perfectly," Rana said, setting the scroll of parchment down on Anomen's desk.

"Of course, I'm the best, that's why you came to me, after all. Though, I hope you realize what'll happen if they find his body. I don't think you'll be able to talk yourself out of this. Not this time."

"They won't. Sarevok is seeing to it."

"Well, I suppose he's qualified enough for corpse disposal. I hope you know what you're doing, girl."

"And if I don't?"

Safana leaned a hip against Anomen's dresser and folded her arms across her chest, a contemplative look on her face as she studied Rana for a moment.

"Hmm… I'll bail if it looks like you'll get me killed. No offense, but I quite like being alive. Otherwise, as long as I get to collect more pretties and have some fun, I'll stick around."

"Glad to hear it. I have another favor to ask."

"Oh? I'm afraid I'm fresh out of those, now."

Rana laid Anomen's coin purse on the desk between them.

"On second thought, I've recently restocked! Whatcha need?"

"Keep an eye on the others. And keep your ears open. I want to know what they're saying. If any of them are planning to betray me in some way."

"Getting paranoid? Can't say I blame you, after that little meeting and then getting pawed by Sir Deads-A-Lot. Alright, I'll see what's to be seen and listen in on their boring conversations and report back when I've learned something interesting. Anything else?"

"Do I need to mention your discretion? Or does that cost extra?"

"It's on the house. For now. I'll let you know if my pockets get lighter and that has to change."

"Thank you. Remember, we're leaving at dawn. Be ready."

Rana slipped quietly back into her room and sank down on her bed. The dam that was holding back the deluge of emotions churning within her sprung a few leaks, the foundation eroding away as she looked around her room and the evidence of what had happened here. What had almost happened.

A sort of madness overtook her over the next hour as she scrubbed her floors on hands and knees, an all-encompassing need to rid her sanctuary of the lingering reminders of the dead Knight's presence. This was necessary if her ruse was to be successful, but that wasn't what drove her to clean until her fingers were raw. She needed him gone. If any molecule of him remained here, then his ghost could haunt her, the memories of the shock of being struck, of being cornered, of being reminded of how she'd frozen, unable to fight back and overpower him, because of the flashbacks his actions had triggered.

When she was satisfied that he'd been purged completely from her room, she went and took a bath, making the water as hot as was possible, so that it scalded her when she sank down into it. Down, until she was fully submerged, with only the tops of her knees exposed.

The mark on her cheek where Anomen had struck her stung sharply in the steaming water, but eventually the heat dulled even that.

Opening her eyes, she gazed up through the bathwater, to the ceiling, holding her breath for as long as she could. Until black spots danced in her vision, and even then she stayed beneath the surface. Once the panic began to flutter in her chest, she expelled the air she'd been holding and surfaced, gasping.

When her heart resumed its normal rhythm, and her hair and body had been scoured with a rough cloth and soap, she leaned back in the water and waited for the tears to come. For the anguish that followed the trauma she'd recently endured and witnessed. For some kind of guilt, perhaps, at not foreseeing Anomen's break from reality. At not stopping Sarevok from choking the life out of him. At not immediately going to Keldorn and explaining what had happened.

The tears didn't come. Nothing came. No remorse. No guilt. Just… nothing.

And that, more than anything, terrified her.

Four hours till dawn

A soft knock on the door pulled Rana from her mindless stare at the knife she'd been sharpening with monotonous diligence for the past hour. She opened her mouth to tell them to go away, but her throat was dry, so she answered with a cough. Sarevok must have taken that for an invitation because he opened the door and stepped inside.

Thought I'd locked that… she growsed. Not that it mattered. She'd lost all faith in locked doors.

Sarevok hadn't, obviously, as he turned the lock in place before facing her.

He stared at her from across the room, no expression on his face to clue her into what was going on in his head. When the wordless seconds turned into wordless minutes, she finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Is it done?"

A nod.

"What did you do?"

"Left the body in the woods. Deep enough that it won't be discovered before the beasts can take care of it."

Her conscience recoiled at the way he addressed Anomen's corpse, sickened at the fact that one of her companions had been discarded, left for animals to devour. The memory of why he was just a body now, though, kept her from agreeing with it.

That numbness from earlier had lifted. Somewhat. She still didn't feel any grief. There was guilt now, a little, but it was tempered by the enormity of the lies she would have to spin in order to cover up his death. And the necessity of the lies stoked her fury.

When Rana had gone to Safana to forge Moira's letter, the other woman had been livid that she'd felt the need to hide the truth.

"Just tell them what he tried to pull!" Safana hissed.

But it wasn't that simple, was it? She could already hear Keldorn shouting at her that she should have stopped Sarevok from killing him. That Anomen should have been brought before the group to answer for what he'd tried to do to her. She could envision Jaheira's conviction that Sarevok's lethality was due to his hatred of the priest, a "good man", and that he saw the assault merely as the perfect chance to cull one of Rana's people. She could imagine Imoen's suspicion that Rana and Sarevok had somehow orchestrated Anomen's death.

Few would have outright believed her, and the ones that did would have been drowned out by the rest. She could still scarcely believe what had happened, that Anomen was capable of stealing her room key, disarming her in her sleep, striking her, and forcing himself on her. Whether he would have gone any further than kissing her, before realizing what he was doing… she didn't know. But she knew how she'd felt in that moment. And that nothing could have coaxed her to command Sarevok to be merciful. Because, if she hadn't been caught in the maelstrom of her flashbacks and hampered by her own inebriation, she wouldn't have been either.

She could still see Moira's face that night she arrived at the Delryn estate. The bruises on her lovely face. The fear imbedded in her eyes. What her father had reduced her to in the midst of a drunken rage. None of the others knew just how bad Cor was. They wouldn't be able to imagine seeing the shadow of him rising up in his son, what she had seen just before he died.

"Do you regret that I killed him?" Sarevok asked quietly, pulling her from her thoughts.

"A part of me wants to. Most of me is still angry that I didn't do it myself. Thank you, by the way. You didn't have to intervene."

Rage flashed across his face before it was hidden behind that impassive mask he wore. It was brief, a tightening of the jaw, a flare of light in the gold of his eyes, but she caught it.

This feels like old times, she found herself thinking, and the thought brought on an answering wave of weariness. It felt like years ago that they stood so far apart, facing one another, not exactly foes but definitely not anything friendly. Hiding their emotions from the other so as not to expose a weakness. That night that had started them on the path to what they would become. However brief it was.

This wasn't like that time, though. There was no more searching for things to exploit. No wariness of him drawing close enough to strike against her. Regardless of what had happened between them, their days of fighting, their Ouroboros of hatred and resentment, it was over. At least on her part. She had no idea what their relationship would be like now. Cold, if she had to guess. After all, that was what became of fires in the end. Once the glowing embers died out.

That thought made her… sad. What had happened between them had sparked seemingly out of nowhere, leaving little time to wrap her head around it. And just as she'd begun to fully realize that there was something burning between them that she'd never felt with another… it had guttered out.

It was for the best.

And someday she might eventually convince herself of that.

"What will you tell the others?" He asked, finally looking away from her and walking to her dresser to pick up the remaining half bottle of wine that sat there.

"I had Safana forge a letter from his sister, calling him home. He came and told me he had to return to Amn, that it was urgent. That's what I'll tell them."

"It's an obvious ruse. Up and leaving in the middle of the night. On the eve of battle. So much glory left behind."

"You got a better plan?"

"Several, but considering who you'll be asking to swallow this deception, your way should suffice."

"It won't matter either way. We'll be neck deep in drow in a few hours. Once that's done with it's on to the dragon. There won't be enough time to debate the legitimacy. Not until this is all over. At which point I'll be long gone or dead."

Sarevok downed the wine and placed his hands atop the dresser, staring down at the wood a moment.

Her eyes followed the hard line of his shoulders before she could catch herself. Clearing her throat, she glanced down at the knife and whetstone in her hands, forgetting she still held them, and deposited them on the desk beside where she sat.

"If you just came to make that report, and drink the rest of my wine, then I need to get some rest."

"We both know you won't be going to sleep anytime soon. You'll run from the nightmares that the knight induced until you're knocked unconscious in battle, or get a chance to drink yourself into a similar state."

No point in searching for weaknesses anymore, she thought dryly, because he's already found them all.

"Sarevok, that was me trying to politely ask you to get lost."

"I know. And that was me ignoring it."

She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. What was he playing at now?

"Why?"

"Logic dictates that it's because I'm not yet ready to 'get lost'."

"Well, you and your logic have a long day on the frontlines ahead of you, and we're now sans a cleric. Perhaps you could use that logic to come to the conclusion that a couple hours of sleep may be the difference between living and dying."

"Rana, I've been trained and conditioned to go days without sleep. When most men collapse from exhaustion, I'm only just beginning to break a sweat. Your concern for my well-being is reassuring, though."

Her heart thudded a bit more strongly than it should have.

"Oh? And why is that?" She asked, aiming for disinterest.

"Am I right? Was that concern?" He asked, studying her, and ignoring her question.

"Of course it was. I'm going underground in a few hours and I don't want my toughest frontline fighter to die right away. Lessens my odds of seeing the sky again, doesn't it?"

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"I see. I was being foolish, then, thinking your concern may be stemming from… something else."

Her lips pursed, and she picked her knife back up to spin it between her fingers.

"Well, you've always been a bit of a fool."

"Perhaps. But I'm not the one fidgeting," he replied, with a nod at the blade flashing in her hand.

"Fidgeting makes me foolish?"

"No, it's just obvious."

Damn him. What do you want?!

"You read too deeply into non-essential details."

"There's nothing about you that could be described as non-essential."

The knife nicked her finger. She glanced down at the stinging cut in annoyance. Sarevok let out an even more annoyed sigh.

"I rescind what I just said. About fidgeting not being foolish."

"Yeah, well…" she trailed off, no immediate retort springing to her lips.

This back and forth, their sordid way of flirting, was throwing her. Because she didn't know why he was doing it.

Only one way to find out…

"What do you want, Sarevok?" She asked softly, gazing down at the drops of blood welling from her finger.

When he didn't immediately answer, she glanced up at him. He was watching her, but his eyes were distant. After a moment, he cleared his throat and went to sit on the edge of her bed, putting him closer to where she was sitting.

"I want this foolishness to end," he eventually said.

"And what foolishness would that be? We've already covered a broad range of topics under that category, you'll have to be more specific."

"You and I."

She swallowed around the sudden tightness in her throat, trying to ensure her voice remained steady when she replied.

"I was under the impression that it's already been ended. Remember? When I said I was done, then I tried to take it back and apologize, and then you threw my apology back in my face, yada yada. I didn't think we needed to beat this dead horse any further."

"I'm talking about resurrecting the horse, little one."

"Oh," she stuttered lamely, as it finally dawned on her what he was trying to say. "Are you sure? After all the beatings, this horse is pretty scarred up now."

She hoped he understood she wasn't just referring to whatever relationship they'd had. Looking down at her chest, or more specifically, at the newest addition of scars there from the Barbarian, she tried not to feel self-conscious about them, but damn it was hard. Over the years, especially after Irenicus, she'd ceased to care about her appearance. About all the flaws.

Now, though…

If she wore anything other than armor, the crisscrossing scars on her chest were visible. Harder to ignore. She didn't want to care about them, about what Sarevok thought of them, but her pride could only withstand so much.

And, vanity aside, she knew a lost fight when she saw one. It just could not ever work out between them. Nevermind the fact that seemingly lost fights sometimes, somehow, led to some of the most exhilarating surprise victories.

"Rana, you need worry more about the reasons those scars exist than what I think of their appearance. Seeing them angers me, because they shouldn't be there to begin with, but that's all."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly realizing he'd been intruding on her thoughts with their soul.

"Say something," he responded gruffly, "and I won't have to resort to cheating."

"I don't see why you'd want to give this another go," she whispered. "We're incompatible. All we do is hurt each other. We don't want the same things. We-"

"-This sounds awfully rehearsed-"

"But am I wrong?" She asked beseechingly. "We have our shared childhood and great sex. That's it. That's all we've got going for us."

"Relationships have been built on far less than that."

"They've also ended badly even when built on far more!"

"So we have one disagreement about using Bhaal's power and you're ready to quit?" He demanded. "Because that's what started this. And you decided to go ahead and try to bring him back anyway, making that a moot point."

"You blame me for Winski's death!"

"I blamed you because I don't handle grief well! It's not something I'm accustomed to dealing with! Feeling anything at all is still something I'm learning how to process!"

"Oh, so being emotionally stunted just excuses you from being a dick to me whenever you feel like it. I see," she snapped.

"That's not what I… bah, you are impossible!" He all but shouted, rising from the bed and turning away.

"I'm impossible?!" She hissed, jumping to her feet. "Don't you dare walk away from me, Sarevok Anchev! You started this, now you're going to stay here and finish it!"

He spun back around, teeth bared in a snarl.

"I'm not the one who wants to give up, Rana. You are. Even though you know we're stronger together than apart. Even though we both know you can't do this without me."

"I've been doing this without you! For years! And I don't want something that just happens to make one single aspect of my existence slightly easier! You want me to need you, but I don't want to need anyone! You yourself tried to convince me of that! That caring about others is weakness. You just want that to apply to everyone else but you!"

"I want you to see that the others are holding you back! No, not all of them, some have proven to be more loyal, but by and large you care too much about what your companions think when they mean nothing to you anyway!"

"My sister meant-"

"You know damn well I'm not referring to her!" He interrupted her, pointing his finger at her face. "And you want to bring up blame, we both know you blame me for what happened between the two of you. Even though I kept up the charade that you asked of me, for all the good it did."

Rana didn't have a reply to that one. She'd blamed herself, mostly, for the animosity that had sprung up between her and Imoen, but she knew she placed a lot of it at his feet, as well.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled on a defeated sigh.

"Fine. I've made mistakes. I own that. I've never claimed to have everything figured out, not even myself. But going 'round and 'round like this just proves my point. This was never going to work, Sarevok. It was fun while it lasted, but I don't have the mental strength to keep fighting with you all the time."

"Then stop fighting me."

She let out a little mirthless laugh, "Like you don't get a perverse kick out of constantly trying to outwit me. You like the fighting. And I grow weary of it."

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Bullshit. You're weary of this," he made an all-encompassing gesture. "But you thrive on combat, in all its forms. Same as I do. We share more common ground than you care to admit at present."

That hit a little too close to home.

"And," he continued, "part of your irritability stems from being cheated of a kill. Anomen's life was yours to take, and I claimed it instead. Not to mention being stripped of leadership by the paladin. You've also expressed disdain for the underground, which we're soon to enter. The animosity between you and your sister. I could continue, but I think you see the point I'm trying to make."

"You think I'd be more receptive to giving this another shot if not for everything you just mentioned."

"Yes. Because you're not ready to walk away. Not yet." He sighed and sank back down onto her bed. "I don't need to remind you that we share a soul. You're keeping your end locked down, but your defenses have slipped just enough in the past few minutes that I've seen enough to know this."

Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she dropped back into her chair, hunched over, staring at the floor, unable to deny any of it.

She felt like she was being torn in two. A feeling she'd become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. On the one hand, she wanted back what they had. On the other, the odds of them having any sort of future together were slim to none. The ache she felt now was nothing in comparison to what she'd feel in a year or two when he grew bored of her. Or he died. Or they quarreled about something meaningless and he left her.

"But I'm not the knight," he murmured, drawing her attention back to him. "I won't force you into something you don't want. Nor will I try to coerce you as I did before. I'd planned to wait and let you cool off before trying to mend things, after everything with Winski, but Anomen's break from reality has instilled some... urgency."

"You already planned on trying to win me back? And why would what happened with Anomen have anything to do with us?"

"Of course I did. And if I had been here when he broke into your room, the end result would have been the same, but you would have been spared his drunken groping and he sure as Hell wouldn't have been able to strike you."

"I could argue it wouldn't have happened either if I weren't drunk."

"And I could counter that by saying I wouldn't have allowed you to drown yourself in wine in the first place."

"You have an answer for everything don't you?"

"No," he sighed. "I just had a lot of time to think while I lugged that coward's body all over the forest."

"Well, did you think about what you'd do if I said 'no'? What if I honestly don't want to try again? What then?"

She knew what she wanted, she just didn't see how attaining it was even remotely possible given the circumstances.

"Then that's that."

Raising an eyebrow, she cast him a suspicious look.

"As I said, I will not push. And as much as I enjoy sparring with you, I do not wish to spend my time constantly fighting you just to keep you by my side.

"So you'll leave?"

"No."

"What?" There was no attempt to even try and hide her disbelief.

"I will not abandon you to face your fate with nought but those simpletons beside you. Regardless of what happens between us, I want you to come out of this alive, Rana."

Her arms tightened around her stomach. She hadn't expected that.

"It doesn't matter. Ultimately, you and I want different things from each other."

"I think you'd be surprised."

"Oh? We'll make lists then and compare."

"We're not making lists," he replied, deadpan.

"It would be easier-"

"I want to feel whole again. I want to have every belief constantly challenged because there's more wisdom to be gained that way than in any scholar's library. I want to throw my strength at someone who can match it. I want to construct perfectly sound plans just to watch you gleefully and unknowingly tear them apart. I want to know there is another who understands exactly what I am, and why. I want to fight beside one who feels just as alive as I do in the fray. I want this and more. Much more. And I'm willing to take this day by day, mostly because I have little choice in the matter where you're concerned. Now tell me what it is you want that is so very different from that."

Her heart was given a moment's reprieve when Rook twined around her ankles, mewing softly up at her, luminous green eyes searching to see if her lap was empty. Satisfied that it was, the little cat leapt up and settled in, purring intently, oblivious to the debris raining down around it as Rana's world crumbled a little further.

She wanted everything he said. She wanted it so badly that it frightened her. Almost enough to make her forget how painful it would be if it slipped through her fingers a second time.

"And what about the future?" She asked. "Say we try again. Say we win this war and both of us make it out alive. What comes after that?"

"You tell me."

"I don't… I haven't put enough thought into the specifics. But what if I wanted to settle down? I like this house. I like having a home. Something that's mine. What would you do if I decided to come back to it, spend a few years just… living. Nothing exciting. No great schemes. Nothing ambitious."

"Then I would find a way to adjust. I can't promise I would be content with that sort of life, but if that was what you wanted… I would see if I could come to want it, too."

Damn him, that was a good answer.

"Anything else?" He asked with a small, arrogant smirk. "Come now, you must have more to throw at me than that."

"What if I wanted children?" she blurted out, taking some small pleasure at watching that self-assurance dwindle to something closer to panic, "I can't… I'll never have… but adopting, or fostering them?"

It was his turn to fidget.

"Will you find a way to adjust to that, too?" She pleaded, needing him to slip up, give her some kind of excuse to reinforce the crumbling resolve she'd thrown up out of fear.

"You can't honestly want me around little ones."

"You're dodging the question."

"It's a valid point."

She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.

"As I said before, and as you once told me, a day at a time. For now. And you said it yourself, you don't even know what you want for the future."

Looking down at Rook, and twining her fingers in his thick gray fur, she felt his purrs rumbling throughout his body.

She didn't know how to feel about any of this. Elated? Relieved? Exasperated? Doubtful? Terrified?

Hopeful?

If the last few weeks had taught her anything, it was that taking what she wanted ended in misery for those around her, and even more for her in the end. She was not a creature destined for contentment.

"Day by day," he repeated, likely answering her thoughts, or guessing them. "You were more than okay with living in the moment before, why are you so concerned about the future now?"

"I could ask you why you're not."

"I am, but I'm learning to prioritize today over tomorrow. A skill I've picked up from you. So, naturally, you change that aspect of yourself accordingly."

"Are you implying that I'm trying to be difficult?"

"No, I'm not implying that. I'm stating it outright."

She huffed.

"It's not that I don't know what I want, Sarevok, it's that I'm…" she ran an anxious hand through her hair as she braced to voice the truth, "...I'm scared of losing it again," she finished in a whisper.

The sound of her mattress groaning as Sarevok stood and closed the distance between them made her shut her eyes. Trying to hide the vulnerability she knew he'd see.

"Then help me," he murmured, kneeling before her, a sort of plea in his voice, making her peak up at him, since even on one knee he still had height on her while she was sitting down. "Tell me you want this, as I do, and we'll figure the rest out as needed. Use that stubborn pigheadedness of yours and there is nothing that can come between us that we can't fight."

"Call me pigheaded one more time. See where it gets you."

He reached out to smooth her hair behind one ear, and just that simple contact was enough to give her a taste of what she'd been missing. That wholeness. Both halves clicking back together.

"You are the biggest pain in the ass, an impressive feat considering your diminutive size."

"Call me diminutive-"

"And you're often a drunken mess of a woman who almost seems to revel in making people bang their heads against walls just trying to understand you."

"And here I was, this close to taking you back-"

"But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it, miss you. Almost, perhaps, as much as you've missed me.

She immediately pursed her lips together in an effort not to laugh.

"I get it now. A few days apart and your ego has been allowed to go unchecked. Gods, I'll have to start all over."

"I have faith in your annoying ability to trample it back down."

"I mean, someone's gotta do it, right? I'd actually be doing the world a favor by giving this another go."

"Self-less of you," he agreed, gently pulling her closer as he leaned in to whisper against her lips, "Tell me you missed me."

"Never," she breathed, and the pleased look in his eyes at her expected, mulish answer was all it took to unravel the few remaining threads of doubt around her heart.

One hour till dawn

"I wouldn't enjoy it, but I could always kill the paladin for daring to undermine your leadership."

Rana raised her head from Sarevok's chest to give him the look that statement deserved.

"In all honesty, I don't mind the demotion," she replied, stretching her worn muscles before relaxing back into a sprawl across his chest, "He can lead while we do what we do best. Let him deal with the politics that comes with that position. And the mess I left him with in regards to Jaheira and Imoen."

"Speaking of… you don't intend to resume that farce of hiding this anymore, do you?"

"No, I don't really see the point in it now. I don't much care what anyone thinks anymore. They can die mad about it. There's mercenaries aplenty to hire if some of them bail."

"Gods, you actually just said that."

She nipped him, earning her a growl before he pulled her closer, and the warmth of his skin, bare against hers, was enough to let that remark slide.

"Do you plan on ever telling them about what really happened to Anomen?" He asked after a while.

"I don't see why I would. Besides, once this is all over, they'll find out the truth, more or less, if they return to Amn and inquire about him. And I wish them the best of luck in trying to exact retribution for it."

He rumbled an agreement, one hand smoothing down her back to rest at her waist. She sighed, almost admitting to him that she had indeed missed this.

Whole.

A part of her wanted to be angry that this feeling was only reachable by being here with him. She never wanted to be the kind of woman who needed a man to make her feel complete, even if they shared a soul. Perhaps it would rankle more if he didn't suffer the same kind of withdrawal when they were apart. This need worked both ways. They both suffered it. Which, in some ways, made this all the more worthwhile to fight for.

Merp!

Rook climbed up the sheets and hopped atop Rana's back, purring furiously. As he circled three times before curling up into a ball in her hair, she looked up at Sarevok and grinned.

"I recall you saying that you would get me another kitten when you slipped up and made me angry. Sarevok, where's my kitten?"

His lips brushed her forehead before he whispered his answer.

"Seems I didn't mess up too badly if you're here with me anyway. But, if it'll keep you from bringing up adopting children again, I'll get you all the damn cats you could want, I swear it."