"If I told you once, I told you a hundred times: enough with the DAMN noise already!"

Vaala smiled. "We're sorry, mister Velen," she said sweetly. "It won't happen again."

Velen sighed and shook his head - a remarkable feat, since his beard had a tendency to get in the way a lot these days. "Yes... yes, it will," he said sadly. "And next time, I WILL call the police! MARK MY WORDS!"

The smile stayed in place, but now it showed just a little more teeth than was strictly necessary. "I don't see that happening, mister Velen."

The draenei prophet, once a guiding beacon of hope to his an entire race (and subtly Demoted to Extra at some point since) tapped his forehead with a grimace. "I do."

Behind them, Varian decided he'd heard just about enough. "We'll deal with that when it happened," he growled in Velen's general direction.

Once they were safely inside – with the door locked behind them for good measure – Vaala dropped in one of the armchairs and rubbed her eyes with a tired sigh. "To think he's supposed to be deaf," she muttered. When Varian didn't answered, she looked up, "What are you-"

"That." Varian jerked his head towards the door to his room, which stood slightly ajar. "Was it like that when you left?"

Vaala glanced over her shoulder, then shook her head. "I told you, he'd locked himself in."

Suddenly, Varian felt naked without his sword. Sure, Illidan Stormrage had been mostly harmless lately (self-abuse notwithstanding), but he was in no hurry to find out if the ancient half-demon had any fight left in him.

Even though hesitating now would probably do irreparable damage to his image as a fierce and fearless combatant.

If only he had his damn sword.

"I'm going in," Varian announced in what he hoped was a firm and confident voice.

Vaala shrugged. In any other circumstances, she would have teased Varian mercilessly over his obvious reluctance to confront their untimely intruder. Today, however, she didn't care – and, more alarmingly, she didn't care that she didn't care. She knew it was all because of that stupid crush, but it wasn't supposed to feel so bad, damn it. Suppose things would've-

"What in the nine circles of Hell happened to my room?"

Vaala paused mid-thought and watched Varian reemerge from said room, eyes wide. Well, at least Illidan was gone, else he would've made his presence known by now. Emboldened by the fact, she turned an inquiring glance towards Varian. "What's wrong?"

"There's..." Varian made a face and made an inviting gesture, "See for yourself."

This was new. Varian was very, very territorial when it came to his room, and he'd never actually invited anyone in there before. Intrigued, Vaala stood up and obliged, with Varian in tow. What she found there made her blink once and mutter, "Wow."

She'd only caught a glimpse of Varian's room twice before, and both times the place had looked like the Deatwhing, the Scourge and the Burning Legion had stomped through, doubled back, then thrashed everything all over again for good measure before going on their merry way. And someone had obviously taken issue with that, because the room she was in now looked nothing like that. Everything had been washed, folded and tucked away neatly, sorted by either size, shape or title. Every flat surface had been polished so thoroughly it gleamed. Even the carpet felt soft and fuzzy underfoot.

Throughout her many years working as a rogue, Vaala had seen her fair share of things that didn't make sense. This one, however, was so mind-boggling that all she could do for nearly a minute was stand there and gape.

Then a neatly-folded piece of paper on the desk caught her eye. She picked it up warily between thumb and forefinger, unfolded it and scanned the contents, eyes growing wider with each word. Finally, she handed it over to Varian, turned and left without a word. Moments later, a wild roar of laughter drifted in from the kitchen.

Varian listened to it for a few seconds, then shrugged and began to read,

Illidan has been off his meds for too long. I did my best to clean up the mess he made, and apologies for that. He won't be bothering you again any time soon.

- M.S.

PS.: If you see Tyrande, tell her I still think she's a bitch.

Varian paused, then read the note again, struggling to cope with the absurdity of it all. M.S. could only stand for Maiev Shadowsong, whose obsession with Illidan must have reached a whole new high if she'd chased him all the way here. Still... why would she take the time to... clean anything?

"OCD," Vaala said lazily a few minutes later, when a very puzzled Varian asked her the same question.

Varian quirked an eyebrow. "Oh-cee-what?"

"Obsessive-compulsive disorder."

"Oh." Pause. "I always thought her 'obsession' was with Illidan, not..." Varian snorted a little, "Housekeeping."

"Manifests in more ways than one," Vaala answered after a moment. "All her letters were exactly the same height, too. Wouldn't be surprised if all the dashes on her t-s, etcetera, were the same length, too."

Varian nodded with a thoughtful frown. Something still nagged at his mind, but the thought refused to come out in the open, where he could see it and hopefully put it out of its misery for having dared to bother him. Since Vaala didn't look too talkative at the moment, he decided to keep still and let the thought come to him, which, after a while, it did. It wasn't a bad thought, all things considered. "Shouldn't we do something about it?"

The question brought Vaala back from whatever reverie she was indulging in. "Hmm?"

"Illidan. If Maiev has him, shouldn't we – at least, shouldn't you, as a former minion and all that, do something about it?"

"I suppose," Vaala said slowly, "I could track down Maiev, kick her behind six ways to Winter's Veil, break Illidan free of whatever box she's keeping him in this time and make him all better with the power of my devotion." She took a deep breath, then finished, "And that's exactly what I'm not going to do."

Varian blinked. He definitely hadn't expected that.

Vaala rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Wrynn. I have a feeling someone else will step up and take that job, and then I'll have the double satisfaction of shaking her hand and saying I told you so. Lunch?"

Before Varian had a chance to process the changes in her tone and manner, the phone rang.

"I'll get it!" A moment later, Vaala was already pacing the living room, receiver in hand. "Yes. Yes. No, he's not- That? Oh, that. Wasn't me. Yes, I'll pass it along. You too." She turned to the kitchen and announced loudly, "They need you back in Stormwind. Something about a PvP raid 'porting in or something."

Varian pushed himself up with a groan. It was frightening how quickly things were returning to a semblance of normal even after... well... all that. As he passed Vaala in the living room, he paused. "Are you going to be okay?"

The look he got in return almost made him glad that there would be a world between them for the next few hours at least.