Inappropriate Conduct

By Abby Ebon & Chaos Silk

A Note from the Authoress'

When all else fails, blame Chaos and the fact that it takes her a while to write things sometimes, and that neither authoress have been into the Eragon fandom for a very long time. So yes, Chaos retains the blame and her habit of speaking in third person, and also managed to retrieve the plot from where it was hiding in her folders and is about to get this fic back on track.

On track being, complete and utter randomness. Chaos is good at that.

Everyone is OOC, but regardless, we rock and we will keep on doing what we have been doing. Or rather, keep doing what we used to be doing because what we have been doing is nothing productive.

I am going to shut up now.

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Disclaimer: Obviously, considering that there has been another book written and published in the time that we haven't been updating –at least if Chaos recalls her dates correctly-, we are not the authoresses of Eragon, and quite frankly, we don't want it either. Too full of clichés, overpowered characters and ridiculously easy to spot plots.

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When we last left our heroes, Murtagh, who may or may not have been exceedingly drunk, was naked except for his sword, Jaycee, whose face resembled a tomato because for a thief he was exceedingly sheltered despite Draco, was trying not to become a stuttering mess on the floor, and Draco, our monkey-thief-mascot, was cackling like someone had just dropped the greatest blackmail material in the history of blackmail into his lap. In the (years) minutes that have passed since we left, not much has changed. Except maybe that Murtagh had covered his precious bits and was starting to resemble Jaycee a little too much for either of them to be comfortable, not that they could be with one being naked and the other being constantly mistaken for a girl.

"Well," Draco started, wiping tears from his eyes with a furry silver paw as he regained control of his laughter, "You did say free him from his ties to Galabroix, and his clothes would definitely count as a tie, considering they have his cresty-thing all over them." With that, our mascot collapsed into helpless cackling again.

"That's really not helping Draco." Jaycee hissed, finally taking enough initiative to slap a hand over his face, shamelessly peeking between his fingers at Murtagh as he sputtered, trying to come up with something to say that wasn't either a squeak or gibberish. If he could have, his assistant/guardian/friend would have raised an eyebrow at him, asking when exactly did he do anything to help someone who wasn't Jaycee?

There was an awkward silence between the two males –though one might still be convinced that the other was a girl-, punctuated by high, dry cackling of the almost maniacal value and then, just when Jaycee thought that it could not get any worse, a very familiar figure practically bounced, no, make that *literally* bounced into his line of sight. That familiar face sported a grin that spoke ill for his sanity even before she spotted the entirely naked man standing beside him, clutching his groin and spouting off nonsense. At least, Jaycee thought, as the priestess stalked over, it could not get any worse than this.

"Gotta hand it to you Jaycee." Soahc, who most certainly had not forgotten how to spell her own name in the (years) minutes that have passed since she had last seen him, purred, stalking around the two like a shark circling prey. Murtagh looked about three seconds away from passing out completely, and may, indeed, be unconscious on his feet. "You certainly know how to pick them." She smirked, and Jaycee felt his stomach sink like a stone, somehow knowing that she had seen the entire thing and was teasing him because that is what she did. "However, I'm afraid I'm going to have to interrupt your special naked funtimes…" She said in monotone, her face completely expressionless, though one could tell she was laughing inside. "…because we, in our wisdom, have decided to send you, your monkey, your nude little boytoy and this red dragon landed on the edge of camp, which didn't set off any alarms at all because the security in this camp is a joke, on a quest of major importance. Because this is a wedding and therefore the best disguise for a major quest."

Jaycee stared at her for a moment, wondering if something had changed between the time they last spoke and now, because he certainly didn't remember her being quite so… wordy last time. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was something in her demeanor that had changed too. He blinked at her, tilting his head to the side. "Isn't there…?"

"No. Not important." She interrupted with an air of serious finality, pulling a pair of horrendously bright pink *fluffy* pants from her sleeve and tossing them into Murtagh's face with a little too much force, sending him sprawling over the ground in an embarrassed daze. "Meet us.." The way she said us sounded like she was telling him to meet a death squad. "…in the tent with the big scorchmark on the east side of it at the signal." With that said, she stepped back and simply disappeared into the shadows.

"Wait!" Jaycee called helplessly, way too many questions running through his mind as Draco decided to stop laughing and make himself useful by putting the horrendous pants on Murtagh. "Where…? What…? Which…?"

As soon as the last word left his mouth, something in the camp exploded, and much like Soahc had said, not a single guard paid any attention to it. Draco looked at him, slapping Murtagh in the face not because he wanted to wake him up, but because he found it amusing. "That must be the signal."

Jaycee groaned, and resolved himself to not understanding a thing about this night and the nights to follow.

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TBC

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