"My turn to roll the dice!" Babette exclaimed when Tomallia dropped the little cubes into her outstretched palms. The small vampire shook them ferociously, sending them flying when they hit the table. "Well! Who's number eight?" She chirped. Mercer Frey lifted his hand indifferently. Babette giggled and clapped her hands with excitement. She skipped over to her victim's side and whispered something in his ear.
"That's cheating! You have to say it out loud!" Tomila cried. There were murmurs of agreement. But Babette and Mercer paid them no attention. Instead Mercer was looking at Babette as if he had just realized the adorable, dainty little girl could really be an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood. This, he realized, was the face of evil.
"Think of the gold, Mister Frey," Babette encouraged, "Two minutes. Hardly a long time at all, for that kind of money." Mercer sighed and stepped away from the table.
"Mercer! Going to enlighten us, mate?" Delvin called as the Guild Master brushed past him. Frey stopped when he reached Brynjolf. He pulled the Nord out of his chair and held him gruffly by the shoulders. Brynjolf looked as though he was going to say something, but before he could get the words out, Mercer cut him off with deep, passionate kiss.
Screams of laughter penetrated the room, but Mercer showed no signs of stopping. He wrapped his arms tightly around Brynjolf, so the man couldn't escape. Mercer took advantage of Brynjolf's shock so he could slip his tongue inside the other man's mouth. Brynjolf tried to break free, but Mercer's gripe was like a vice. The Nord's arms were pinned to his sides; his only defense was to swat angrily at Mercer's hips with his hands.
When Mercer could restrain Brynjolf no longer, he pushed the Nord away from him as fast as possible. The room was in pandemonium. Vex had actually fallen to the floor, unable to breathe through her mirth.
"Oh Mother-the laughter! It hurts!" Cicero wheezed.
"Devine's! I'm going to sleep with a whistle around my neck from now on!" Brynjolf shouted when the powers of speech had finally returned to him.
"I better get serious points for that." Mercer growled.
"I dunno," Delvin howled, "Bryn, did he earn it?" The room broke down once more. Mercer looked as though he was going to rip someone in two. Babette wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I suggest a sold eight points. He didn't last the whole two minutes, but…it was quite a performance." She managed before losing herself to giggles once again.
"I second that." Nazir raised his glass. "Anyone else?" Brynjolf pulled himself back into his chair and took a long drink from Astrid's tankard.
"Ten!" He shouted, slamming the empty mug down on the table. Even Mercer had to laugh.
"I'll take eight points. Highest score of the night." He snickered. "Oh- and I believe it's my turn."