Chapter 6 - Cute

Nalia stepped in a puddle.

With the reflexes of a panther Fith leapt away from the three or four droplets that splashed in his direction, intent on his boots. Grunting as he collided with the close wall of the alley, he took a moment to verify he had escaped from the onslaught of water unscathed before pushing off the wall and returning to a very puzzled and increasingly amused Nalia's side.

"Why did you do that, my lady?" he asked, looking just short of traumatized.

"Step in the puddle?" Nalia shrugged. "Why not?" she asked as they resumed walking.

Fith scowled. "Well, first, it's noisy…"

"And talking isn't?" Nalia raised an eyebrow.

"And second," Fith continued, though in a slightly quieter voice, "it's dirty." He spoke the last word as if it were a creature from the foulest depths of the abyss.

"It's just water, Fith," Nalia said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"It's dirty water. Off the ground. Do you have any idea how often they clean the streets in alleys like these? Just three ticks shy of never."

"Oh, pish posh," Nalia swatted at the air. "Why, I'm sure they're clean enough to eat off of."

Fith looked like he was going to throw up. Nalia laughed.

"Gentle…steady…just like that," Fith whispered in her ear, close enough for his lips to brush against it. "Make her open up for you."

Nalia frowned at the lock she was trying to pick. "Could you stop that?"

He chuckled. "A thief needs to be able to work under distraction, my lady," he whispered into her other ear now, his hand on her opposite shoulder, thumb moving in gentle circles on her neck.

"I seriously doubt this is the kind of distraction I'll ever have to deal with, Fith," she said crossly.

He chuckled again before returning his lips to her ear. "One kind serves as well as another. Or better than none at all, at least. Now, that poor lock is yearning for your touch. You won't deny her, will you?"

Suppressing a groan of irritation Nalia returned her attention to the lock, biting her lip as she tried her hardest to ignore the feel – reminiscent of the wonderful attention he would pay her ears under very different circumstances – and sound – a bedroom voice to make any male prostitute envious – and words – an endless string of innuendo that from anyone else would have only been obnoxiously childish – of Fith's continued encouragement.

An eternity later she felt the lock finally give, and slowly turned the knob, the back door of the middle class jewelry store opening a few inches to quietly declare her success. She closed it again shortly after, then managed to take Fith by surprise and pin him to the worn cobbles of the alley.

Her lips descended on his, quickly cutting off whatever words of shock he was about to utter, and for the next several minutes Fith managed to forget any concerns he had over how dirty the ground was.

Nalia's head rested on Fith's chest in a position to hear his heartbeat. Added to it was the sound of him yawning, the knuckles of his outstretched hand sliding against the headboard before stopping at her belt. With a curious expression on his face he carefully picked it up from where it had fallen looped around the bedpost and brought it down for a closer look.

Pausing briefly to see if she had any objections, he loosened the button on one of the many pouches adorning the belt and looked inside. Nalia giggled as he twitched slightly, his face scrunching in disgust. "Nalia, darling, what in the world is this?"

"Spell components. It's a mage belt."

He jerked, and she suspected the only thing stopping him from throwing the belt away was the knowledge that it would make a mess. With nimble fingers she closed the pouch again and took the belt out of his hands, sparing him any further conflict. "I did tell you I was a mage," she said with a teasing smile.

"Well, yes, but I thought you might have been…," he trailed off nervously.

"Lying?" she suggested, somewhat grumpily.

"Bluffing," he corrected, as if it made a world of difference.

"I don't look like I could be a mage, is that it?" she asked, though with more worry than anger.

"No, no!" he reassured her. "You, uh…you…So how powerful a mage are you, my lady? Exactly?" he asked, his nervousness returning.

Nalia pouted as Fith's fear of magic – shared by almost everyone in Amn – was quickly becoming more annoying than cute. "Oh, powerful enough to turn you into a toad, certainly," she told him.

He flinched visibly, though managed to ask in a fairly nonchalant tone, "Really?"

"Oh yes," she confirmed, sitting up to loom over him, a wicked smile growing on her face. "A slimy toad, in a filthy swamp, that eats disease-ridden flies!"

He flinched again with each statement, finally leaping from the bed at the last, hands held out in an unconscious plea for mercy. The hands fell as he witnessed Nalia begin to laugh, then lifted again as his arms crossed. "You're making fun of me," he noted casually.

Nalia nodded.

"You can't really turn me into a toad, can you, my lady?" he asked, mostly managing to sound as if he already knew the answer.

Nalia shook her head, adding as her laughter died down, "No. Though I could shrink you."

He blinked, and almost looked more worried than before. "All of me, or…?"

Nalia rolled her eyes. "Yes, all of you. To half the size you are now." Why that news caused him such visible relief she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Dismissing her confusion, she continued, "But I wouldn't, Fith. You have no reason to be afraid of me."

He scratched his head. "Of course. I knew that," he said in a tone that confessed the opposite, along with an appropriate amount of embarrassment.

Nalia gave him a warm smile, which soon turned mischievous. "That is, unless you don't return to this bed right this instant. It's become dreadfully cold with just me in it."

"Really?" he asked in a tone that certainly wasn't nonchalant. "Dreadfully cold, my lady?"

"Indeed. It will need to be warmed up again."

"I see. And if I refuse you will…shrink me?"

"Yes."

He grinned. "I've never had a lady force herself on me on threat of shrinkage before."

"No?" she asked, as if surprised.

"No. Though I suppose I shall be thankful the lady is such a fair one," he said as he approached the bed.

And he was.