She boiled the eggs, sliced them with her knife, tossed in the few remaining vegetables and beans. There was no meat left. The sun was starting to get low in the sky and the air had a cool bite. She was annoyed at losing so much time to this whole venture, annoyed with herself for letting a, let's face it, she thought, half-starved and sorry-looking prisoner catch her off guard as he'd done. A severe lapse of judgement on her part. She also felt shitty because she couldn't really blame him for getting away from her after she'd chained him to the horse. But that made her by comparison, a failure.

She took the meal over to the log where Jaime sat, and handed him a bowl. Then she sat down near the fire to eat hers, which was more difficult than she expected due to her swollen lip. She chewed carefully, but bits of food kept falling out on one side.

'Do you want mine?' She gave up, and handed her bowl backwards to Jaime.

'Can't you eat?' he asked, taking it. He sounded genuinely guilty, which made her feel a little better. It didn't stop him eating her food though. She sipped from her water flask, trying not to think about how hungry she was.

Shouldn't have given him my food. What's left now, bread? Great. She stared into the flames, trying to stifle the feelings rising in her that this was all so unfair. Why did I get talked into doing this, anyway? I could be at Blackhills tavern by now, sleeping in an actual bed. I could be getting some decent jobs. Not gallivanting through the bush for the promise of riches that have a high likelihood of not even existing. Because I felt sorry for some vagrant.

The girl had been independent a long time. For years she'd supported what was left of her family in the hills with the money she made delivering both legal and illegal goods, and kept herself below the radar of soldiers and law-men. Beholden to no-one, a free entity. Her mother had always told her that was how it should be, that she was safe because she was free. All she had to do was be discreet and fair with her customers, keep to her own business, and she'd live happily ever after. No-one can hurt you, if they can't see you, her mother had said. But now her mother was gone. And the girl didn't believe in happily ever after stories.

Impulsively, she got up and went over to the packs, hunting through them until she found the second flask of wine. She took it with her back to the fire and sat down.

'Are you going to drink that?' Jaime asked.

'Some.' She didn't normally drink. She liked to have all her wits about her. She liked to be in control. But tonight she felt strangely rebellious, like the day had gone to shit, her stomach was churning with hunger, and now this was going to be her reward for putting up with it all. Never mind that she didn't even like wine, had never drunk more than a cup or two at family gatherings. And that had been home-made, mild and dry. Not this potent brew. She flicked the top off the flask with her thumb and it popped into the air and was immediately lost in the dim evening light. She took this as a sign that she wouldn't be putting it back on.

'Do you think that's wise?' Jaime said, although he sounded more amused than concerned. 'Drinking on an empty stomach.'

'As much as I value your feedback, Jaime-ee,' she emphasised the last syllable,' If that even is your actual name.. I think I can make my own decisions.'

'Of course. I'm simply advising.'

'Fuck advice.'

Jaime smirked. 'You remind me of someone.'

'Really? Is he fucking amazing?'

Sniffing the contents of the open flask didn't calm her stomach much, it made her distinctly queasy. It smelled astringent, with a hint of rotten fruit. She held the flask away from her nose, and behind her Jaime chuckled.

'She, actually. And yeah, she's pretty amazing. Look, that so-called 'wine' you have there? It will knock you out. I can smell it from here.'

'You had some. How bad can it be?'

'I only had those first couple of mouthfuls, and trust me, it was pretty bad. The rest I dumped out along the way.'

'Clever,' she said. She lifted up the flask and tipped it into her mouth. As soon as she felt the liquid brim against the back of her teeth she closed her lips and swallowed without tasting. Immediately a searing rush of fumes spread up into her nose and eyes, like she was on fire inside her skull. She put her head down, pressed her lips together to stop from coughing, but some still splurted out of the corner of her lip. She made a strangled sound, wondered if she was going to hurl it right back up again.

Jaime laughed unreservedly, and as she raised her head, blinking the tears from her eyes, she stifled a laugh too. 'Steady, no need to hurt yourself,' he said.

'I'd think you'd be happy, ' she shot back. 'Save you the trouble of doing it.'

'Hey, I'm sorry you took that assault on your self personally. I just don't do captivity very well. But, it was wrong of me, and I promise, I won't try it again.' Jamie made everything sound like a joke, even the fact he'd attacked her, and she knew she should've cared, but she didn't. Right now, she couldn't be bothered caring about anything.

'Sure. Sure you won't.' She took another big gulp of the wine. It burned down her sore throat and she felt as if steaming flames jetted from her nose and eye sockets. But in a couple of seconds that faded and the pain in her neck and lip faded with it. She felt as light as the glowing sparks dancing and swirling up out of the fire. She burped quietly. Ridiculous, that she'd been so disapproving of him drinking this stuff earlier. I really can be an uptight bitch sometimes. She twisted around and offered the flask to him. He was still laughing at her. 'Go on, have some. I insist,' she said with saccharine sweetness.

'I don't know if I should... that looks positively toxic.'

She shook the flask to tempt him. 'If you don't, I'll have to drink it all myself, and then you'll have my death on your conscience.'

'I think you're presuming I have a conscience,' Jaime said. He tipped his head to one side as if to stretch his neck. Rested his elbows on his knees. 'Nevertheless, I feel obliged to rescue you from suicide by alcohol poisoning.' He leaned over and took the proffered flask. The girl sat up and swivelled her legs around to face him. He brought the wine to his mouth with exaggerated caution, and pulled a mock-horrified face. She was already giggling by the time he sipped experimentally from it.

'Fuck, this is worse than I remembered.' He swigged at it and screwed up his face, shaking his head madly from side to side before swallowing. 'Your turn.' He passed it back.

'Does that help?' she asked.

'Does what help.'

'Pulling that face?'

'Yes it does, as a matter of fact. If you don't pull that face, this crap will corrode your gums and all your teeth will fall straight out. Don't say I didn't warn you, girl.'

She lifted it up to her mouth, already recoiling from the pungent aroma. 'How is...' she began, starting to laugh for no real reason except that Jaime was suddenly also laughing, 'How is this, this shit... even wine?'

'Look, they call it wine. I don't know what goes into it. I don't know how they process it. I'm fairly sure it's the main reason most citizens of the South die young.'

'Yeah isn't wine s'posed to be,' she stopped laughing long enough to sniff at it again, 'at least somewhat enjoyable?'

'You're expecting too much,' Jaime said, 'Stop smelling it for one thing. We already know it smells like the septic pit in the King's whorehouse and tastes worse. Just scull it down, and try not to let it come in contact with any of your sensory organs on the way.'

'How do you know what the King's septic pit smells like?'

'So I've been told.'

'Oh. So you've been told.' She did as he'd suggested, tipping a good quantity of liquid straight down her throat. This time she coughed and laughed so much she nearly toppled over. Jaime leaned down and grabbed her arm with his cuffed hands, helping her sit upright again. He took the now three-quarters-empty flask off her and rested it against the log he was sitting on.

'Good?' he asked, when she stopped spluttering.

'Realllly tasty,' she said. Her face felt hot and her mouth numb. She felt wonderful, actually. 'Let's go for a walk.'

Jaime looked doubtful.

'C'mon, I need a walk,' she declared, standing up. 'And you're coming with me.'

'I realise you're slightly delirious from having drunk enough Southern rotgut to kill a goat, but it's getting dark and I may have concussion. Plus, I'm a bit restricted.' He raised his hands to demonstrate.

'Fuck.' She sat down again. 'That's so inconvenient.'

'True.'

The girl pouted, looking around for the wine flask. When she couldn't see it, she crawled over to the fire and patted the ground with her hand until she found her water bottle. She crawled back to Jaime and sat in front of him again.

'Thirsty?' he asked.

She nodded and tried to flip open the top, but it was stuck. She frowned and dug her thumb under the lid with no success, until Jaime reached down and took it off her. He deftly unscrewed the lid and handed it back. This was so ironic to her that she burst out laughing and couldn't stop. Jaime had to take the water off her so she wouldn't spill it all.

'Come here,' he said, patting the spot next to him on the log, where she'd sat when she'd stitched his cut earlier. She scrambled up onto it, it was quite big and weathered smooth, the surface curved around like a horse's girth. She could still put her feet flat on the ground either side with her legs slightly bent.

'Water now,' she said. Her voice didn't come out quite right. Jaime was regarding her with such amusement she wondered what exactly was so funny. She reached for the flask and he held it up out of her grasp, pushing her hands down with his cuffs. 'No, girl,' he admonished. 'You'll only spill it on yourself.' He waited until she sat back compliantly, then he brought the container down to her face and angled it up so that a few drops trickled onto her lips.

The cool water felt good. It ran onto her tongue and she swallowed. 'Don't move,' he said in a soothing voice. 'Your mouth is all swollen.' He put the flask down, then rubbed the ball of his thumb gently across her bottom lip. The sting of it made her gasp a little and her lips parted. Jaime stared at her, for a long time. It felt like a long time, anyway. She could feel her heart jumping in her chest. Jaime seemed to be searching her face. 'You even look like her,' he said, under his breath. Then he bent his head and softly pressed his lips to hers.

His beard was scratchy and she hesitated, then relaxed. Blood rushed to her face, the alcohol surged through her body, and her inhibitions were dissolved like sand castles before a tidal wave. She hummed in her throat with pleasure. The small sound had the same effect on Jaime as a gust of oxygen to a glowing ember, his breath grew rough, his hands tightened on her top and the weight of his body pushed her backwards. She opened her mouth wide and their tongues twisted against each other. She could taste her own blood from the cut on her lip, but felt unable to stop herself, as if she were in a dream. A dream where she could do whatever she wanted.

Jaime's chest was a solid wall but she pressed her hands into it and shoved at him, until he reluctantly pulled his mouth off hers and sat back. 'What...?' he complained, his eyes almost black in the warm glow from the fire, widening as she put her fingers under her top and lifted it over her head. 'Hey...' he breathed. She pulled her undershirt off in the same way, then stood up, swaying a bit as she straddled the log with her legs. Her knife holster unfastened next, she threw it away towards the packs.

'What are you thiiiinking?' she teased, slurring her words a little.

'Wish I wasn't wearing these handcuffs, for one,' he growled, not taking his eyes off her.

She laughed, lightly, easily. She felt as weightless as a feather. She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her pants and pushed them down, lifting up one leg and stepping free of them. Jamie didn't move but she could hear him breathing heavily. Now she had on only the strip of cloth that was her underwear. Basking in the intensity of his gaze, she undid the fastening on the side and the material fell down one leg to her ankle. She kicked her foot, and then she was naked.

She sat back down on the log, her knees apart.

Jaime stared at her as she leant in towards him. 'What are you thinking, now?' she whispered. She reached over and, with the back of her fingers, brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

'I'm thinking,' he said, his voice ragged, 'You should drink more often.'