"Get back, get down.

Pull me closer if you think you can hang.

Hands up, hands tied.

Don't go screaming if I blow you with a bang"

– M.I.A.

"Fix it?" Cyréne echoed.

"Yes," Shaye repeated, "Fix it."

"How?"

Shaye shook her head, "Cyréne, I know there's a bitch in there somewhere, can you dig her the fuck out already?"

"What? I don't know what to do."

Shaye sighed and reclined on the steps. "Okay, Miss Honesty, remember that one time when someone threatened to give you a taste of your own medicine?"

Cyréne glared at her. "You mean the time I nearly died of shame telling you about that you swore you'd never mention to me again?"

"Yes," Shaye said with a gentle motion of both hands, "the very one."

"I'm not following you. Don't forget the part where he beds her to spite me."

Shaye tapped the ends of her fingers together and worried her bottom lip as she looked up into the sky. "I've got it!" she said suddenly. "You're going to save your pride by serving them to each other."

"I'm going to what?"

Shaye let out an evil little laugh and bent her head close to Cyréne's. "Here's what we're going to do . . ."

A while later the sound of feminine laughter attracted Vilkas's attention. He looked up just in time to see Cyréne take a seat on top of the table on the porch. A woman he didn't recognize sat down on top of the table next to her. He watched them out of the corner of his eye for a moment. The newcomer was a petite brunette with shoulder-length hair cut in choppy layers. Her voice was velvety and she moved with a seductive grace he could appreciate. She smelled of danger and death. Cyréne's melodious laugh distracted him and he looked back to her just in time to see her reach over her head and arch her back into a stretch.

"I heard that pop," the brunette said. "There are too many delicious men around here for you to have kinks in your back, surely one of them could . . . work it out for you."

Cyréne twisted a few times and then shrugged. "You'd think"

There was a clanging sound as Ria dropped her sword. The two women turned toward the yard as if just noticing its occupants.

"Drat!" Ria said, with a pretty pout. She wasted no time in coaxing Vilkas into wrapping his arms around her to show her an alternate grip.

The two women on the porch stood up from the table and walked to the edge of the porch to watch. Vilkas got the distinct feeling of being stalked as they leaned on opposite sides of the same post with identical looks of mirth on their faces.

Ria pressed close to Vilkas and shot Cyréne a smug look.

"Didn't you say you dabbled in two-handed weapons for a while?" the brunette asked in a bored tone.

"Barely," Cyréne said with a yawn. "I did manage to learn how to hold the sword though."

Shaye bit back a smirk and addressed Ria in a friendly tone. "Perhaps Cyréne can show you how, if you're having trouble . . . getting it."

Cyréne crossed her arms and shot the brunette an annoyed look. "I'm afraid not," she said icily, "I stopped wasting my time with two-handed weapons quite a while ago. I can easily best anyone who wields them with sword and shield."

Ria took the bait easily. "I prefer two-handed weapons," she said with a sniff. "They take more skill to handle."

"Yes," Cyréne said in exactly the same tone. "It's just a pity so few people have the skills to wield them effectively."

Ria shot her a hateful look. "Well Vilkas certainly has the skills," she praised.

Kiss-ass Shaye thought

Cyréne shrugged non-committedly, "perhaps, although I've yet to see him take on a worthy opponent so, who can say, really?"

Vilkas's temper was beginning to get the best of him. "Well find one for me and I'll gladly prove my skill," he growled.

Ria's smug smile widened

Shaye snorted. "You can take him," she said to Cyréne.

A slow smile spread across Cyréne's face. "You're right," she said to Shaye. Cyréne looked over at Vilkas. "You want a worthy opponent? You're looking at her."

"You're not serious," Vilkas said.

"Of course I am," Cyréne flipped back.

Shaye clapped her hands. "Ooohh! 20 septims on the pretty one!"

Cyréne stepped into the yard. "Watch and learn," she muttered as she brushed past Ria.

Vilkas crossed his arms and looked her up and down. She was wearing another tight pair of pants with a loose tunic tied at her waist . . . his tunic. "You plan to fight me without armor?"

She shrugged. "You can keep yours on if you feel you need the advantage."

Vilkas wasn't a stupid man, he knew damn well she was manipulating him somehow, but it was intriguing and he was itching to make her swallow the arrogance she was radiating. He shrugged back at her and stripped from the waist up.

"Yummy," Shaye muttered.

Cyréne crossed the training yard and picked up a practice sword and shield. She took a few slow swings to loosen up and turned back to Vilkas. "I'm ready to beat you, now," she said sweetly.

"Well let's not waste any time," he said dangerously.

Cyréne's eyes sparked as she readied her weapons and approached him. The sweetness in her voice was replaced with venom as she hissed at him. "Take your best shot, Brother."

Vilkas wasted no time in attacking her full force. He was good, but he'd never seen her fight at full capacity and he was overdue for a lesson. She was fast, very fast, and she dodged his swings with ease.

"Out of practice, Brother?" she mocked.

Vilkas growled and advanced on her again. The commotion (and Shaye's loud call for bets) drew the remaining companions to the porch. Skjor and Aela looked at each other and Aela chuckled. Over the furious clanging of metal, even they couldn't hear the heated conversation taking place.

"You disappoint me, Vilkas," Cyréne hissed. "I thought this was going to be a challenge."

"Don't worry," he growled, "I'm just getting started."

"Maybe if you spent less time with your arms around the person you're supposed to be sparring with, you wouldn't be so out of practice," she smirked.

"You're questioning my training methods now?" he snarled.

"I'm questioning your taste in women, too. I didn't think simpering and desperate was quite your type, but then again you aren't that picky"

"I turned you down," he said acidly.

"Only because you couldn't handle the competition. What's the matter, afraid you wouldn't measure up to the Dragonborn, Vilkas?"

She caught an especially brutal slash with her shield and smirked behind it as she stumbled back a step, before pivoting and swiping her blade across his torso.

"Did I hit a nerve, Brother?" she purred.

He leapt back in surprise when her steel connected with his body, but recovered quickly. "I can assure you, I've had no complaints."

"If that were true, you'd still be married."

Vilkas's eyes flashed. "Bitch!" he spat.

Cyréne laughed at him. "We'll see who's the bitch when I get done with you."

For a few minutes they fought so fiercely that they couldn't speak.

"I could have you begging for more," he growled after a few moments.

"Hmph!" Cyréne grimaced. "You'd never be satisfied with another woman, should I ever allow you the privilege."

"Don't flatter yourself! I don't want the privilege."

Cyréne bashed him hard with her shield and came in close to pin his weapon to his chest. "Oh you want it," she growled lowly, "you want it bad."

Vilkas shoved her off of him with a snarl. "You're mistaken. I get more than enough, without you around."

Cyréne laughed again. "Quality over quantity, Vilky-Wilky – or do you even know what that is?"

The use of his old nick-name caught him off guard and Cyréne used it to her advantage. She tripped him and stripped his weapon as he put out a hand to steady himself. She stepped back and rested the tip of her sword on his throat.

Cheers and grumbles echoed from the porch as Shaye finished playing bookie and all of the Companions but Ria headed inside. Cyréne and Vilkas were both panting and covered with sweat. It ran down his chest and arms and the tunic she wore stuck to her. Fury was rolling off of him in waves. She laughed and dropped her sword from his throat.

"Better luck next time," she said patronizingly.

Vilkas lunged at her and pinned her to the wall.

"The fight is over," Cyréne hissed, "you lost! Try to take it like a man."

"It's not over until I say it is," he snarled.

"Vilkas!" Ria called.

Cyréne dropped her weapons and twisted out of his grip. "Duty calls," she whispered.

He grabbed her wrist. "We're not done here."

"Vilkas," Ria tried again. "Let's get back to my training."

Cyréne looked right at her and then back at Vilkas for a split second. Before he knew what was happening she plastered herself to him and planted a scorching kiss on his lips – hard and demanding. Shocked, he opened his mouth to protest, but she drove her tongue into his mouth and pressed closer. Overcome with anger, and . . . something else, he retaliated and they battled for dominance. His arms came around her and she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. An animalistic sound escaped him as he grabbed her hips. He shoved her into the wall again and ground his hips against her. Cyréne's hands tangled in his hair and she rubbed wantonly against him and jerked him closer. He growled at her and bit her bottom lip. She jerked his head back by the hair roughly. "Bad dog!" she hissed. "Don't bite!"

Their eyes collided for the briefest of seconds, and the world tilted on its axis.

Then she leaned forward quickly and bit him back, drawing blood. She slipped off of him and it took every bit of will power she possessed to shove him away from her roughly. "Felt like you wanted it to me," she said and sauntered away from him.

Ria stood stunned and fuming a few steps from the porch. "You can have him," Cyréne said as she passed, "because I say you can. Don't try to take anything that's mine again."

"You . . . you—"

"Save it Ria," Cyréne said icily.

Shaye grinned. "That man requires two hands, honey," she couldn't resist adding, "and you don't have the skills."

Vilkas stared at the stone wall in the training yard clenching and unclenching his fists. He licked the blood from his lips and spat on the ground. His blood rushed through his veins, and for the first time the wolf pulsed in response to Cyréne instead of being calmed by her. He turned to retrieve his armor and in spite of himself, he smiled. She felt something for him, he couldn't have asked for truer proof that what she'd just unintentionally given him. Still, had he known how many nights he would spend dreaming of the memory she'd just created, he would have screamed instead of smiled.

Shaye and Cyréne barely made it inside, before they cracked up. They were all the way past the front gates before they allowed themselves to speak.

"By Sithis!" Shaye squeaked out, "I almost came!" Her grin faded when she took in the look on her friend's face. "What's wrong?"

Cyréne drew a shaky breath. "I felt something."

"Well fuck yeah," Shaye laughed. "Hell, I felt something, and I was twenty feet away."

Cyréne smiled and put a hand on her chest, "No, I mean . . . here."

Shaye laughed and put an arm around her friend's shoulder before whispering "Yeah, I felt it too but it was a lot lower."

Cyréne took a few deep breaths and put her hands on her knees. "Holy shit, Shaye! I can't believe I just did that!"

"Did what, Sweetroll?" said a smiling voice behind her.

Cyréne's eyes were huge when they met Shaye's. "FUCK!" she mouthed in panicked horror.

Shaye's silent snigger became a tittering nervous laugh and then a cackle as she doubled over laughing. Suddenly, she stopped mid-cackle and righted herself. "Girl things," she said, completely straight-faced. "I'm Shaye."