A/N: I must thank blackrising for being a dear, suckered into proofreading like that. Let's give her a round of applause~

Disclaimer: EA and Bioware owns the characters in this story. I'm just messing with them for my own sinister purposes.


Merrill's eyes were glazed as she repeatedly shuffled the deck of cards on the table. She was waiting for Isabela who had gone off to the bar, catching up with Corff on daily gossip. Varric was with her at the table, dividing betting chips for an upcoming round of Wicked Grace.

The dwarf gave his companion a passing glance, then pushed a pile of chips towards Merrill. "Stop worrying, Daisy. We all get mishaps," Varric commented. "Remember Rivaini and the spider incident? Even our dear Hawke almost lost it." He chuckled at the memory.

"Kitten wasn't with us then, a good thing," Isabela added as she joined the table, carrying three mugs of ale. Merrill's gaze followed the mug as the other woman pushed it towards her. Isabela handed out Varric's drink as well before sitting beside the elf with a wry grin on her lips. "Hawke was scary mad then. I stank of spider innards for weeks."

Merrill sighed as she started handing out cards. "I'm still at fault, 'Bela. If only I paid more attention I could have told where you were and I not just," she ducked, glancing at the adjoining tables, then with a lowered voice, she continued, "Cast that spell. If you were any closer to me then you might have lost your legs." Her small frame sunk deeper into her chair.

"Well, I'd be a real pirate then, Kitten. Imagine, peg legs!" Isabela laughed as she peeked at her cards. She then nudged Merrill with her shoulder. "At least I got a taste of Hawke out of it." Varric knitted his brows at Isabela, who simply replied with a smile. "Not like that. I know Kitten's not into sharing. You should try one of Hawke's heals, next best thing to sex and sailing."

"Thanks for the tip," Varric smirked and started arranging his hand. "I'll ditch my potions next time."

"Pfft, you're no fun." Isabela sipped from her tankard and fixed her eyes to the side, quietly watching Merrill. The flustered elf was fumbling through her cards and was practically holding them out for Isabela to see. She grinned at the her friend's obvious discomfort as she began picking through her own cards. "Honestly, Kitten. Apology accepted. I completely understand," Isabela coolly said as she pushed several chips to the table's center, keeping her gaze away from Merrill. "If that heal's already foreplay for your girl I'd be tripping all over myself too."

Merrill looked at her friend, confused. "Four play?" She rubbed her forehead with one hand and raised a similar amount of chips against Isabela's. "I'm afraid Hawke hasn't taught me that game yet. Is it similar to Wicked Grace? I should ask her next time, she just bought this brand new set of stacks, you know. They're so smooth to the touch," Merrill gushed as she thumbed through her cards. "Not like your worn ones, Isabela. You should buy a new stack as well, though they're quite pricey in Hightown."

Isabela and Varric looked dumbfounded at Merrill.

"What?"

With that, the pair exploded into hysterical laughter. Merrill looked even more confused than earlier.

"Was that...something dirty?" Merrill asked no one in particular with a small frown, focusing intensely on her cards. Isabela and Varric couldn't answer; they were still busy banging their hands on the table, laughing. Several gambling chips fell from the table. The elf deflated with a sigh, covering her face with her hands and cards. "Creators, why do I keep missing these things? This is why we haven't done it yet."

Isabela abruptly dropped her hand and laughter, along with her jaw. Varric, meanwhile, coughed as he calmly pushed himself off the table, tipping an imaginary hat towards Isabela. "Aaalright, this is your show, Rivaini." He then regarded Merrill with the same gesture. "I'm calling it an early night to leave you two to your girls talk. That and Bianca's calling." The dwarf immediately rushed off to his suite before his companions could notice the rush of blood to his ears.

Isabela and Merrill were then left with each other; the raider still unable to pick her jaw and the elf wringing her hands together in her typical anxiety. The uneasy silence between them prevailed over the constant drone of the tavern's folk.

"I...I said that out loud, didn't I?" Merrill finally asked, quite sheepishly.

Isabela snapped out of her trance but continued to stare at Merrill, golden eyes wide with disbelief. "I'm sorry Kitten but what did you just say? You haven't done it yet? By it you can't mean sex, can you?" The pirate rambled her questions in quick succession before slumping her chin on her palm. "Because this is Hawke we're talking about. The only thing that stays virginal around that harlot is olive oil."

Merrill could only nod, biting her quivering bottom lip. Isabela sighed and took the girl's hand. "Aww, there there, Kitten. Please tell me you've at least made out."

"Made out?" Merrill hiccuped her building sobs away. The bronzed woman groaned.

"Like kissing, necking, groping? Like this," Isabela brought Merrill's hand to her chest. The elf's eyes widened with surprise.

But Isabela was even more surprised when Merrill gave her breast a light squeeze.

"L-like that?" the lithe woman stuttered.

"Yes, yes, like that." Isabela released Merrill's hand, failing to restrain a laugh. "You've done that, right?"

"Yes, we've done that," Merrill whispered wistfully while looking at the hand she groped Isabela with. She then took her sour ale and took several gulps. "Oh," Merrill finished, almost dropping the empty mug on the floor. "I didn't think I was that thirsty."

"Expectedly so, Kitten, if you were thinking what I thought you were thinking." Isabela teased before sipping her own ale. "Well," she resumed while resting her cheek on her palm, gesturing to Merrill with a mug in the other hand. "You do this on a regular basis?"

Merrill started drinking from Varric's abandoned tankard. "Everytime she visits, which isn't as often as I'd like." She frowned with heavy eyes. "And sometimes when she catches me watering her garden."

"Watering her garden, eh?" Isabela chuckled as she eyeballed Norah, the waitress. Soon, their mugs were refilled.

Merrill grinned. "Oh, that came out dirty, didn't it?"

"My my, you're quicker when you're drinking," Isabela faced the other woman and leaned closer, their foreheads almost touching. "Sounds like you mix mits often enough for it to lead to bed. What's stopping you? Some kind of Dalish tradition?"

Merrill drooped into her friend's shoulder, sighing. "Oh, I dunno...I think it's because I always manage to kill the mood or whatever," she mumbled while her index began tracing idle lines on Isabela's exposed hip. "I keep thinking I'll mess it up. Hawke's just so...experienced, while I don't even know where to start pawing at. Last time I even asked her why her tongue was in my mouth. I'm such a fool! Who does that while kissing?"

The pirate did not answer.

Merrill tilted her head up and was met with a glassy look. " Isabela?"

Isabela snapped out of her reverie. "Oops, sorry, enjoyed that finger too much," she chuckled then gave Merrill's cheek a pinch. "Tried that with Hawke? It'll do wonders!"

"No, no, I could never!" Merrill pulled away from Isabela. She grabbed her mug and took a huge gulp. "Maybe I should go to her while tipsy," the elf muttered, wiping the corner of her mouth with a thumb.

Isabela frowned then snatched the ale away from Merrill.

"Hey! 'Bela!" the smaller woman protested, sluggishly reaching for the cup. Isabela stood up on the tip of her toes, holding the drink with her arm outstretched over her head. The act effectively frustrated Merrill from her efforts.

"Anyone else I'd recommend that but no, not for you," Isabela said firmly, still standing on her toes.

"Why not?" Merrill spat, hopping as she reached for the tankard. "It'll make..." she hopped again, the edge of middle finger brushed the bottom of the tankard, "...things..." she squatted to prepare for another hop, but a look of enlightenment passed her face. Merrill resorted to pulling Isabela's arm. "...easier!"

Isabela held the smaller girl's chin with a firm hand, stopping the latter's antics. "Trust me Kitten, you don't want to be drunk on your first night with a lover." Her hand let go of Merrill's face then went to a shoulder, gently guiding the elf down to her chair. As Merrill sat, Isabela seated directly before her. She cupped Merrill's face with both hands, giving it a light slap so that the elf's drowsy eyes met her golden pair. "You awake, Kitten?"

"I g-guess," Merrill sounded unsure, knitting her eyebrows as she tried to focus on her friend's hazy face.

"Good, now listen." Isabela locked eyes with Merrill, her voice strong and firm. "You're lovers, you'd want to remember your first night and being drunk won't help that. More so for you, you're a sodding virgin in love. Do you want to greet Hawke the next morning with 'What's that sting between my legs?' or 'Was it good?'"

Merrill vigorously shook her head against Isabela's hands.

The pirate chuckled. "That's my girl," she said as she finally released Merrill's face after giving the cheeks a soft pat. "Now no more ale for you." Isabela declared, then proceeded to successively guzzle down all three mugs. She finished her drinking with a boisterous belch.

Merrill covered her mouth with a hand as she allowed a soft yawn. She set her arms down on the table and rested her head upon them. "So what should I do now?" she mumbled, on the verge of sleep.

"More make out sessions and get used to the idea that tongues are just the start." Isabela followed with a laugh. "The main course will involve even more squishy bits." She then puffed her ample bosom with great pride. "Lucky for you I have books for that, and I know how much you love books."

A quiet "mmm thanks" was Merrill's only affirmation. Her heavy eyes then pleaded with Isabela. "Promise you'll let me handle this on my own?"

Isabela was taken aback for a second, then gave a raspy chuckle. "Saw through me, huh?" She gingerly ran her dark fingers through the elf's hair. "If you insist, Kitten; I promise."

Merrill responded with a smile and was soon asleep on the poor table. Isabela rubbed the back of her neck as Varric appeared behind her.

"Looks like you get the floor tonight, Rivaini."

"Not the first time," Isabela sneered and gave the dwarf's arm a soft swat. "Now c'mon, let's put that manly chest to good use and tuck Kitten in."