Disclaimer: Dragon Age is property of Bioware, not me.

Prompt #7: Leave

Sandwiches

"Want a sandwich?"

Anders smirked and tilted his head at her. His smile was one of the things that had always thrilled her about him. He didn't do so often, and that was one of the many things about the world that Hawke was determined to change. Half the things she said were formulated to make him smile, though their actual impact on other people in the area sometimes left something to be desired. "You will be an inspiration to generations of romantic poets."

"Only if someone tells Varric about that line," Hawke grinned wickedly, "and I don't kiss and tell."

"I hardly think what we just managed classifies only as kissing . . ."

"Well, if I told anyone about that part, I'd never be able to keep you to myself, would I?" she feigned seriousness, "You know how selfish I am. I could never share this," she grabbed his molting collar and pulled him closer, their noses almost touching, "with anyone."

Still fairly new to allowing this closeness, Anders was momentarily stunned by her proximity, and Hawke smiled as she felt his hot breath hitch in his chest and warm her cheek.

"Seriously, if they were giving out awards for performance, I'm sure you'd win first prize," she breathed tantalizingly, not quite close enough to brush his lips with her own as she spoke. When he leaned forward to attempt their capture with his, she pulled back tauntingly, just out of reach.

Undeterred, Anders quickly cupped her face and claimed her mouth passionately. When they finally parted for breath, Hawke could feel the smile still on his lips, "You're not so bad, yourself."

"Mmh," she murmured noncommittally, even warmed as she was by the compliment, "I wasn't kidding about that sandwich, though. I'm starving! How about you?"

He suddenly shifted uncomfortably, "I wouldn't want to impose . . ."

Hawke raised an eyebrow, "Anders, I'm rich. I have food. Impose away. And before you feed me any silly line about not deserving it, yes, you do. You helped me get this far, among other things. Besides, everyone deserves to eat."

Anders clicked his jaw shut and just stared at her for a second.

"So, are you hungry or not?"

"Ravenous," he finally decided.

Hawke smiled in relief, "Good. Now, come along, my pretty blonde hobo, and I'll take you to the kitchen where you can eat me out of house and home. Take of your coat and stay awhile longer, while you're at it," she teased.

His cheeks colored a little, but he followed her suggestion, draping his heavy coat over her desk chair before joining her by the door. How he'd managed to get dressed so fast after everything still baffled her, but she chalked it up to practice. They were probably the most complicated mage robes she'd seen on anyone who wasn't a Tevinter slaver. She thought she might ask him about it someday if she ever found herself interested in bondage.

Anders followed her closely down the stairs, but Hawke wondered if it was his present body heat she felt on her back or the recent memory of it.

When they reached the kitchen, she opened the larder to pick out some meat, cheese, and that day's leftover bread. While Hawke knew her way around this kitchen in the physical sense, her culinary skills were mostly limited to exactly what she was doing now: making sandwiches. While not raised to cook, her mother didn't perform poorly in the kitchen, but Hawke was still glad she'd found a cook after she'd bought the estate. There was only so much cabbage and stew she could stand.

She set the meal components on the table and didn't miss Anders' wolfish stare. She was tempted to keep the materials in hand to move them about and watch as his eyes tracked them, but decided not to be that cruel right now. Food was her priority, too, at the moment. While she prepared to cut her loaf into slices, he cut his down its length and started cramming meat and cheese into the two halves as if it might all vanish if he waited. The sight made Hawke pause to watch, momentarily forgetting her own hunger as he proceeded to scarf down the huge sandwich with gusto. When he was done, he reached to the bread she still held under one hand, bread knife raised to make the first slice, and snatched it from under her fingers to start the process all over again before he suddenly realized what he was doing.

Anders started to bluster an apology, but Hawke chuckled with a smile and waved it away, "Oh go ahead. I'll just get another loaf, and once I have my sandwich, you can have the rest of it, ok?" She gave him an appraising look up and down as if seeing him for the first time, "How do you fit that all in, anyway?"

"A chronically empty stomach and a high metabolism," Anders answered almost evasively, "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Like I said, impose all you like," she wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, and he didn't miss the hint, watching her swing her hips on the way to the larder as his hands seemed to automatically put together the meal before him.

Hawke actually had the grace to get a plate and sit down at the table with her sandwich, which Anders followed her lead with on his third. In spite of all the eating he was doing, she could tell something was eating him.

"So, you really mean what you've been saying about, you know, imposing?" Anders asked uncomfortably once her sandwich was done.

"Of course," she smiled and covered his hand with hers on the table.

"Well, the templars were sniffing around my place yesterday . . . I might not be safe there much longer. I know we haven't been together long, but with all you've been saying—"

"Wait, are you asking to move in with me? Way to kill the romance," Hawke quipped lightly, smirking.

"If you want to stumble over all the drunks in Darktown just to see me every night, I'm sure we could arrange that," she could tell he was almost trying to be serious, but the quirk at the corner of his mouth gave him away, "but I would also repay such generosity in the best way I knew how."

"Hmm, I think I may have a use for such gratitude," she hadn't realized how close she'd gotten to him as he defended his case, but only a little farther and she'd be in his lap. She decided to remedy that situation.

"So is that a yes?" Anders asked breathily when their lips parted again.

"The drunks would never get any sleep if it wasn't," she purred at him, "But that story about the templars concerns me. You should lie low for a few days, imposing as it may be . . ."

"Hmm, maybe you should lie low, too. Those pesky templars are everywhere."

"My thoughts exactly."

Two days later, Hawke woke to being shaken none-too-gently by the shoulder. She blearily opened her eyes only to meet teasing amber eyes surrounded in brown skin and arching eyebrows.

"Isabella?" she muttered groggily, "Did I make it to the Hanged Man?" A quick glance told her this was not the case. It was still her bedroom. One place that Isabella certainly wasn't allowed while Hawke was asleep. She sighed, "Isabella, what are you doing here?"

"Well, nobody's seen Anders in a few days, or you for that matter, but it would seem those problems are related," she explained with a mischievous smirk, shooting an appraising glance behind Hawke's modestly covered body, "The darktowners are starting to get concerned. Don't worry, I'll tell them he's safe." Isabella winked.

Hawke sighed, lowering her voice, even though such commotion probably wouldn't wake Anders if it hadn't already. "Did you have to wake me up before dawn to tell me that?"

"No, but I had to ask," the pirate bit her lip anxiously, "Can I join you two next time?"

Open-minded as Hawke may have been to her friend's views, she still didn't share them. She wasn't going to share him. She'd had partners before, but not like Anders. It might not have been love, but it was personal. "I think you should leave, Isabella."

"But he does that lightning thing! Did he teach it to you? Oh, two of those at once—"

Hawke's cheeks were burning in spite of herself. "Get out."

"But—"

"Now," Hawke hissed, punctuating her point by forming crackling lightning in one hand, and Isabella was suddenly gone through whatever entrance she'd found.

Suddenly, she felt an arm snake around her middle and perpetual stubble nuzzle her shoulder. "Have I told you I love you?" Anders murmured sleepily.

Hawke smiled. "Not today, but there's no bad time to start."