That wasn't so bad. Easy-going gentle presence? He could accept that. It was better than "chaste holy man energy" and certainly better than "bloody monster" or something like that. A nice middle ground. His lips quirked in a smile and, relaxing, he let himself lean against her as she settled in next to him, secretly relieved by the contact.

"Ah, that's an idea. Farming. If you handle the vegetables I could handle the animals?" he offered with a playful nudge, knowing full well it would never work. Prey animals tended to be nervous around him—understandably, they could likely smell what he really was. Horses tried to kick or bite him and he was certain any cow would try to gore him if he got too close. Besides, he doubted that either one of them was cut out for the lifestyle.

His side got a little chilly suddenly as her warmth faded, and he peered down at her as she got comfortable on the floor. And then said, so casually, something that made him stiffen.

"What do you mean? Do you think you're being stalked?" Cadmus asked, eyes sharpening with concern. "Or do you mean that more figuratively?"

The knocking on the wall and yelling jolted Fang back to reality. She went rigid, her face lighting up like a flame, and quickly buried her face against Spike to hide as a full-body cringe went through her.

Ohmygoddesstheyheardeverything.

Spike laughed, but she wanted to die, and she was already starting to wonder how on earth they were going to leave this room now when everyone would know. But Spike's breathy compliments calmed her a little, making her chest squeeze with affection, and she pressed a kiss to his neck.

"No, you are."

And it was true. He might not realize it, for if she had noticed one thing it was how little he seemed to think about himself. But she could see past the self-loathing; there was genuine kindness there, kindness she had felt from day one, a drive to be better and do better—even if he didn't realize it yet. Because why else would he have left everything that was safe and familiar, everything he knew, to start all over the moment he realized it was wrong? It took strength to escape indoctrination like that.

And he had been nothing but respectful toward her, and considerate of her needs. Even his panic earlier over hurting her in the midst of his own pleasure—he could have been selfish, he could have pretended not to notice—or even genuinely not noticed at all. But he was attentive to her needs, noticing the little cues when things were off. And he always had. Those were not the actions of someone who lacked a moral compass, and the only violence he'd committed was to protect her from violence.

And then there was the laughter, the teasing, the awkward charm that made her...

Her thoughts trailed off as he brought up the bath, and Fang couldn't help but laugh against his skin. "Oh...oh no...that room's probably such a mess," she said, and she started to lift herself—only to flop back down.

"O-oh Inima...this is all your fault," she breathed. "My legs aren't working."

Oooof, there was that icy death glare, likely the last thing many a criminal saw before their end. Right. Too soon for that joke. Duly noted!

Raizel was all business again as she worked out her ankle, and Cadmus sobered up as well as she fired off her thoughts. He nodded or shook his head at her questions: yes they would move, no he wasn't tired (it seemed the coffee was working, because he was starting to feel restless and jittery), and then—

She kicked his legs right out from under him, as she was wont to do.

Gentle?! Him? A librarian...a PRIEST?! WHAT? Cadmus clapped a hand to his chest as though mortally wounded and choked out a laugh, utterly blindsided by that one and not quite sure how to take it.

"Ouch!" he gasped. "Damn. Now I know you're still pissed at me—which, by the way, I'm not saying I don't deserve it because I absolutely do." He scrubbed a hand up and through his hair, shaking his head, and flashed her a self-deprecating smile. "I didn't realize you could kill a man without even touching him." 

But mortal wounds of the emotional sort aside, there were questions beneath the barbs. He mulled it over for a second, leaning back on his hands, and sighed. 

"Anyway, looks can be deceiving, I suppose. You don't particularly look like a dangerous vigilante who could kill a man ten ways before he knows he's dead. Put you in a dress and you could be an elven princess. An athletic one, but still."

He rubbed absently at the side of his neck, tracing where the scar ended, head cocked to the side. "I guess we don't always end up where we thought we would, or where we should," he said quietly, and shrugged. "It really only takes a few mistakes or twists of fate. Long story short, I got into trouble and I fell in with the wrong crowd, and that's all it took. I'm not good at much else and...well...it just became routine." Oh gods, he sounded like such an absolute dick.

He winced. "I don't agree with everything they do!" he said quickly.  "And...I was looking for a way out...because of that. Like I said, I don't feel any loyalty toward them. I guess playing attack dog was just...comfortable after a certain point."

Fang never had a chance to come down from her release, for Spike kept her locked right in it when he took over—and then he truly claimed her.  

She was so high on pleasure, so lightheaded from holding her breath as her body shook, that when he gripped her and truly began to plunge up into her—oh goddess, she really did scream then. There was no pain, no discomfort; there was only heightened ecstasy as his wild pounding kept her going, as it drew out her bliss until she swore she couldn't feel her legs. Fang was powerless to do much more than cling to him hard as her sharp, desperate cries and pleading moans filled the room, punctuated by the wet slap of skin on skin. She would never in a million years have thought herself loud (and never in a million years would have thought she'd be in this position at all), but with Spike she found she just lost all control.

Hopefully no one was trying to sleep next door.

One release rolled into the next as his powerful thrusting brought on a fresh wave of gasping trembles, and goddess she loved it, and could have never predicted something so rough, so wicked, could feel so good. She bit his neck hard enough to leave a mark and arched into his thrusts, begging with him with her body for everything he had to give.

And then he breathed out that something was going to happen, and she didn't have long to be curious. She got her answer quite quickly when he abruptly pulled out, and she felt something hot splash against her skin.

Panting for breath, Fang fell forward onto him as he collapsed backward, limp and boneless and utterly drained. Her body was still absolutely thrumming, tingling clear down to her toes, and she couldn't have moved if Inima Herself commanded her. Chest heaving, she turned her face enough to press a lazy kiss against his skin before she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Salt, sweat, the heady scent of sex. It felt...unreal.

But as she traced her fingers along the scars on his chest, she knew it very much was not a dream.

Someone clearly needed some coffee, Cadmus thought as Albert mocked him. Mocked him! Or rather, maybe he needed less coffee and more sleep. He stared at him, brow slightly furrowed, because the man was definitely prickly in every definition of the word, that was true—but there was something almost familial about the griping. Why did it feel like he was perpetually disappointed in them and why was that vaguely upsetting?

But then he was going on about kissing him, but also how it wasn't, and Cadmus felt his eyebrows rise again. They had been doing a lot of that in his presence.

Uhhh, pardon?

Albert was pretty enough that he'd certainly be into him if he were at a tavern and he gave him fuck-me eyes, but for some reason he felt himself cringe at the idea—not just because of the whole Disappointed Dad vibe, but because Raizel was right there and that suddenly seemed to matter quite a lot. He didn't even know why the thought of kissing someone in front of her seemed horrifying, because it definitely wasn't shyness, but there it was, inexplicable and strange. He shot a mildly alarmed look over at her as Albert moved in close enough that he felt his breath tickling his back and spreading goosebumps along his skin—but, thankfully, that was it. He felt the throbbing ache fade into almost nothing, and then it was done.

And he breathed out in relief. "Thank you," he said as he ran a hand over the healed flesh, lightly poking where it was still tender.

Then it was Raizel's turn.

Sitting on the bed, it was interesting to see the process from the other side. Interesting, but also...

Hrm...

The two of them were close, that much was obvious, and Albert genuinely cared for her. Cadmus had told himself it was familial, but as he watched the tender way he touched her as he breathed light onto her skin, and the way he squeezed her knee when all was done, he felt his chest tighten. There was true care in his eyes beneath the bluster. What was their relationship?

And wait...why was he focusing so hard on that? Why had he tensed up as he watched?

There was no way he was jealous.

Albert left with their dishes, and Raizel spoke—and Cadmus jumped, realizing abruptly that he had been all up in his own head. He startled a little, more of a twitch of his shoulders, and it took a second to process what she'd just said. He snorted.

"I mean, we sort of were, if he'd come in just a few minutes sooner," he said, and then winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Too soon? Wait. What did she mean she wished they were...?

But she was already up and moving, already changing the subject in true Raizel fashion. That seemed to be her way; say something completely off the cuff and then move on like she'd said nothing of the sort at all. Lips quirked in a tired smile, he tapped his chest.

"Good as new," he said. "It's almost like you'd never tried to murder me. What about you? Ankle all kissed better?"

"Poetry," Fang managed to gasp out between her fingers, her hand still over her mouth to cover the sounds that wanted to escape her as they moved. "I-it's poetry. From The Egret's—a-ah!"

She looped her arms around Spike's neck and crushed her body against his, breasts pressed to his chest and mouth finding his again to muffle her cry of pleasure. Goddess, it was perfect; she had been nervous, but this was working. She was slow and ginger at first as her body adjusted and the tenderness eased, rocking with shallow strokes that slid him just a little further each time, but with his hands on her hips guiding her and his cock hitting new, sensitive spots that made her shiver and tighten around him...well, she wasn't sure when exactly it happened, but soon enough she had taken him as deeply as he would go, their bodies flush together.

Inima must have forgiven her as quickly as She had punished her—perhaps because she was soon singing Her praises.

"Spike...oh goddess, you feel so—!" She cut off with a trembling whimper and cling to him tighter, rocking against him harder, needing more. With their pelvises flush together he was also grinding against her clit with each stroke, and it was getting harder to breathe, harder to think, as that tight coil of pleasure and tension only grew. She chased the sensation desperately, pressing her lips to his neck as her gasping cries took on an almost pleading pitch, and soon she was begging him, though she didn't know for what, slipping into Thanati as thinking became impossible—

"Oh goddess, Spike, I—!" Words failed her as the pleasure mounted, crested, and she let out a cry that was close to a scream. Her nails dug into him as she trembled all around him and lightly bit his neck to muffle it, and she couldn't move, couldn't think, as for a moment nothing else existed.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Summer Daze (Not her real name.)
Age
21
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Connlaothian
Height
5'4"
Occupation
Courtesan
Residence
Bellkrath

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Summer has a classic "country girl next door" vibe to her. Her skin is brown from spending a lot of time outdoors and covered in freckles, and her dirty blond hair is usually pulled into two braids, long enough to reach mid-back. She's built toned and slender with a slightly athletic build, and has sky-blue eyes.

Personality
Bubbly, cheerful, and kind to a fault, Summer tries her best to get along with, and befriend, everyone and rarely has a bad thing to say about anyone. A glass half full sort of person, she tends to be able to see the bright side of any situation. From an outside perspective, some might call her simple or air-headed, but she's not stupid.

She's a bit flighty, the sort of person that feels her feelings in a big way and wears her heart on her sleeve. There's never really any question about what she's feeling, because she is quite comfortable sharing her emotions and encouraging others to do the same. A dreamer, she falls in love quickly and fiercely—but of course, in her line of work, that never lasts. Some might find her obnoxious, especially those put off by steadfast cheerfulness.

Truthfully, she's a "laugh so I don't cry" sort who's just trying to survive.

Magic/Abilities
None!

Relationships
Emery Ramaker and Alkereth
Knew Emery casually because Emery hooked up with Angel, but Summer never hooked up with her; wasn't Emery's type. Very much tried to hook up with Alkereth and is VERY VERY DISAPPOINTED THEY ARE NOT MARRIED.

Angel
Her BFF! She adores Angel! <3

Caleb
Best bro! <3 She loves him too!!

History
Joined the brothel within the last year as she had run out of options and had nowhere else to go. They've become her found family.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads
The Night the Fire Fell
Summer's disastrous debut where she falls in love and has her heart broke in the span of like three posts. 

"The win conditions are--" Raxta's words cut off with a squawk followed by the distinct sound of furious bubbles as Kaela shoved her head under, totally taking advantage of her distraction! Raxta flailed and splashed uselessly for a moment until she managed to wriggle free and swim under Kaela, popping up behind her.

She promptly spat a stream of water onto her head.

"As I was saying," she continued, hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face. "The win condition is...uh...hmm..." Fantastic question, actually! She looked around, finally looking further downstream where it opened up into a larger lake.

"Fastest swimmer wins. Whoever reaches the lake first."

"Shush," Fang said to his teasing, a finger against his lips--but the way she shifted her eyes away guiltily ruined the effect. "I had some extra time on my hands and a priestess gets curious. That, um...that stays between you and me."

And then she found herself in a fresh new pickle: the fact that this had been her idea and she had stage-fright already. Why? For all things holy, he'd already seen everything--he'd been inside her. She'd even had to use a goddess-forsaken chamber pot in his presence. At this point, there were no secrets between them.

But as she met his eyes with a "deer in torchlight" sort of look that screamed now what?!, she suddenly understood, perhaps, how he felt. She was in control.

And that was intimidating in a whole new way.

Spike certainly seemed to be enjoying this, from the glint in his eye!

"R-right," she breathed, meeting his eyes, hesitating. "Just...just kiss me." And then, summoning her courage, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, hard and demanding, and as she did she shifted her body until she was straddling his hips. But she didn't take him. Instead, still gently exploring his mouth with her lips and gentle flicks of her tongue, she settled against him and let his cock rest against the lips of her sex--and then she just stayed like that, not quite ready to go further. She kissed him--his lips, his jaw, his neck, remembering the way his mouth spread goosebumps over her skin and hoping he could feel it, too.

And as she kissed him and that restless heat within her rose, it soon became impossible to sit still. Slowly, gingerly, she began to rock her hips on instinct, grinding herself against him, slicking him up--and then letting out a sharp whimper against his neck when he rubbed against her clit. That was new. So she did it again, shuddering, chasing the fresh new sensation as she focused on just feeling instead of thinking for once.

"Spike..." she breathed, trembling, her hands braced against his chest as she adjusted herself so she could sit up more. Eyes closed, she rode him without even taking him inside her, feeling a fresh new sensation building, tightening, growing until--

She got a little too enthusiastic, and when she slid back--he slid in.

Fang cried out sharply, clapping a hand over her mouth as her body went taut with surprise, but it was not a cry of pain. She was still sore, yes, but this time...

Oh goddess, he was perfect.

Fang leaned into his caress, waves of relief washed over her as he reassured her. She let out a breath, some of the tension easing out of her--except of course she'd opened her mouth with her idea, and now she actually had to explain it.

She swallowed, folding her arms over her chest with sudden insecurity. "Right, so, um. About that," she said, ducking her head and staring at the blankets. Why was saying it so much more difficult than doing it had been?! Probably because at a certain point, she stopped thinking with her head so much as instinct and need took over.

"So those things I read. In one of them the, uh...the woman, she...she was on top? So maybe...?"

...WHAT.

Kota stared at her, quite aware of his mother's sharp gaze on them both. Was she out of her bloody mind?

"Morgan..." he said under his breath and through his teeth, a faint flush staining his face. Oh bloody hells, she wasn't actually serious was she? Was she?!

A quick glance at her face gave the answer: absolutely. And his hands were tied. If he didn't play along, they wouldn't exactly be convincing, would they? But this? In front of his mother?!

Sucking in a breath through his nose, he leaned in and took a bite from her hand and smiled at her, letting out a happy "mmm!" sound. Then, using his chopsticks, he scooped  up some rice and sweet potato and held it in front her lips.

And Fujin just stared.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Angel Lowell
Age
29
Gender
Female
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Connlaothian/Serenian
Height
5'1"
Occupation
Courtesan
Residence
Bellkrath

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Angel is built soft and curvy with an ample bust, with pale skin and inky black hair that falls down her back in silken curls. She has misty gray eyes framed by thick, dark lashes, giving her an almost doe-ish look. She has the opposite of resting bitch face; she usually looks vaguely amused by everything, which is absolutely true.

Around the brothel, she can usually be found in any number of the silky or lacy, usually sheer, robes and lingerie she loves to wear. Many of them are gifts from patrons, but she told them what to buy. ;D She absolutely loves to get dolled up and, quite frankly, she loves how she looks in silk and ribbons. She wears those for her, not for the clients. (Though it does help bring in that bread.)

When she's not working, she dresses in the tightest corset she can manage without passing out. Her breeches tend to be tight with floral embroidery.

Personality
Friendly, playful, warm, and approachable! Angel knows how to carry a conversation even with the most surly or quiet folk. She's perfectly happy being the entire conversation if she has to be. (Though, of course, she prefers not to, lol.) She's lucky in that she can self-entertain quite easily! If the conversation if boring, she still has a rich inner world she can retreat into.

Tends to be a bit of the "mom" role in the brothel, always looking out for the others, especially the younger and less experienced workers. And while she doesn't have much of a temper (she tends to simmer rather than burn, and it takes a lot to get her there), nothing will make her go mama bear faster than anyone daring to put a friend at risk. She's small, but in those instances she can be mighty.

Magic/Abilities
None! Though she's got pretty good aim when it comes to throwing objects at unruly people.

Relationships
Emery Ramaker
Angel has known the Mordecai off and on for a couple years, as she was Emery's favorite. Their relationship was casual and friendly. (And sexy, of course, but there were also plenty of nights spent just chatting.)

History

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads
The Night the Fire Fell
Angel is introduced and plays a bit role! 8D

Spike literally bolted off of her, and for a moment Fang just lay there, shakily catching her breath and trying to get a hold of herself. Oh goddess, she was an idiot! Had she scared him off? She started to lift up onto her elbows when he was at her side, cupping her face and--oh dear. Saying quite a lot of things, including a worrisome one that just wasn't true. Was he bad at it?! Did he think--?

Oh...oh right.

Hadn't he said he'd not really been around women in any meaningful sort of way?

Maybe he legitimately didn't know how things worked.

Covering his one of his hands with her own, Fang used her other to help her sit up, if a bit gingerly.

"No, no, you were...Spike, you are wonderful. I'm just a little...overwhelmed, I think," she said with a wince, and scrubbed a hand over her eyes before adding quickly, "It's okay, really! I, ah, I should have told you to slow down. But I think we were both a little, well, lost in the moment and...and I didn't want it to be disappointing..." 

Another deep breath and she reached out to stroke his face, thumb brushing along his jaw. "It's okay, though, honestly. It can be, um, kinda painful for some women at first, so I heard from my friends, and you're a little..." She cleared her throat, looking away with a flush. "Big. To me." Another steadying breath. "I think I just got nervous."

Her shoulders hunched as she sat awkwardly on her knees, sore, flustered, and despite everything--still desperately craving him. She wanted this to go right. And even though it had hurt, there had been those little sparks of pleasure, a teasing taste of what could be. She chewed her lip, looking away. "We could try again," she said quietly. "Maybe in a different way?"

Little whimpers escaped her as he kissed her, first her lips and then her neck and breasts, the feeling lingering like fire even when he withdrew. She was so distracted, so overwhelmed with new sensations and mounting desire, that she hardly noticed him shift his body over hers, her legs spreading instinctively to let him in, until he was speaking.

Fang's breath hitched as she felt his cock settle against her, body tensing with nerves. Her hands caressed up his scarred back to settle tightly on his shoulders, and for a moment she thought he meant to take her right then. Should she tell him to slow down? Her heart was ready, but was her body? But the growing ache between her legs and her racing heart had different ideas, so she only laughed softly, breathlessly at his tease, only pulled him in tighter at his confession. It was surprising to her; he could have had anyone he wanted, but...

In some ways, it was also reassuring that he was just as clueless as she was. "Okay," she murmured, lips brushing against his—right before he locked their mouths together.

And took her.

Fang's sharp cry was muffled against his mouth as he slowly filled her, her body stretching to accommodate him, and she bucked up against him in surprise and dug her nails into his back, which only helped him slide in deeper.

Oh goddess, it hurt. She was slick with arousal, but her tension and smaller body weren't helping—and at the end of the day, it was her first time, and his, with neither of them really knowing what they were doing beyond a surface level. She cried out against him as he began to move, slowly at first, then quicker, harder, and she buried her face against his neck as her moans and whimpers filled the room, some pained, some coming with surprising spikes of pleasure mixed in with the discomfort. Oh Inima, she knew it could be like this, she'd heard from other women that the first time could be painful, but even though she knew that, even though she anticipated it even, she couldn't help but worry—

Was Inima punishing her for wanting him?

No, no, no, it was normal, it was nothing, and what did they say? It got better after that? But even knowing that, it still surprised her, still threw her, but she didn't want Spike to know—he was doing nothing wrong, and she wanted him. For a little bit, she was able to hide it with her face pressed against his shoulder and her mouth muffled against his skin, but then he pulled back.

And traced her lip so tenderly.

And she felt like an utter failure.

She stared up at him, biting her lip hard to keep from whimpering, then turned her face away when she felt her eyes burn with tears.

Fang's head was a buzz of frantic excitement and nerves all tumbling together, but Spike's lips quieted some of it. A pleasant chill followed the path of his mouth along her neck and she arched into him as his warm breath tickled her skin, her own gasp catching on a whimper when she felt something stiffen and strain between her legs where she was straddling him. Only his clothes separated them, and only the bath water hid the slick heat building between her thighs.

Oh goddess, was this really happening? Were they really doing this?

It hardly felt real.

But it was real enough when he scooped her up, her arms flying around his neck to cling to him, her heart beating so hard it almost hurt. And soon he had laid her on the bed, her hair a wet and disheveled mess, the water soaking into the blankets, but like so many other things that detail had faded into background noise. She watched Spike as he peeled off his shirt, revealing scar and skin she ached to caress, before she trailed a look down his body as he worked his belt—and her breath hitched. Suddenly she felt too vulnerable, too exposed, laying there like that. For some reason it had been easier to forget her own nudity with Spike's body shielding her, as strange as that was, and with a bright blush she started to grab for the covers, ready to shimmy underneath.

Spike was quicker, joining her on the bed, and soon his heat was covering her as his whisper and his hand caressed her skin. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold went through her, making her squirm, and she swallowed hard when she heard the rustle of fabric and the thump as they hit the floor. Instinctively she looked—and got an eyeful of what those pants had been hiding and what biology texts failed to show.

Gasping, she snapped her eyes back up to his face, her own cheeks flushed, and she desperately sought to hide the small rush of embarrassed panic and insecurity behind a fierce, needy kiss, her hand on the back of his neck to pull him in, her breasts brushing against his bare chest and making the fire within her burn ever brighter.

Oh Inima, what was she doing?! No amount of dirty poetry read in secret or skimmed biology texts had prepared her for flesh and blood reality. Trembling with nerves and desire alike—for this, for him—she broke the kiss to meet his eyes.

"T-tell me what to do," she whispered. "I, um...I'm sorry, I'm not really sure what...I mean, I'm not completely dumb, I've read, er, things, but I've never—" Deep breath, calm down, don't overthink. "I want this to be good for you, too, and I know I won't be the best, but I'd like to try of course!"

The water sloshed over the edge as Spike sat up, but the only thing Fang noticed was his eyes as she peered into them, searching them in wonder and confusion alike as his hand traced her cheek. She made him...weak? Oh. That sounded familiar, she thought as she threw her arms around his neck and melted into him, one hand loosely curling into the hair at his nape.

But before the pieces could click into place, his mouth was on hers again—and goddess, suddenly nothing else mattered. The world stopped as an electric thrill went through her, a little sound of pleasure escaping her that made her face burn all the hotter. This was different, new, unexplored territory that was as scary as it was thrilling—

And yet there was no one she would rather explore it with.

"You...you make me feel things I shouldn't," she murmured against his lips when she came up for air, before giving them an experimental nibble; goddess, why did he taste so good? "We...we shouldn't...I shouldn't..."

It was as though she were trying to convince herself—and she was losing the battle, the protests unconvincing to her own ears, as though she was only saying them just to say she'd tried. 

Inima forgive her, she'd tried.

Her shivering grew a little more violent, the heat building in her core warring with the ice of the tub. She leaned into him, pressed her lips against his ear. "But...I don't care," she whispered. "I...I want this. I—oh!"

She jerked back, staring at the watery mess growing in the room. "The water!" 

What.

What.

WHAT?

One moment, Fang was peering at him in concern, hoping to Inima he hadn't given himself a concussion.

The next, his mouth was on hers—and it was not the chaste kiss of before when they were playing husband and wife. It was needy, hungry, stealing the air from her lungs as the moment hung frozen in time and she forgot what breathing even was.

Her heart raced, a strange flutter made her belly tighten, and the blood rushed to her face despite the freezing cold—a cold she had forgotten even existed.

Oh my goddess, oh my goddess, oh my goddess, Spike was kissing her.

And then...

She was kissing him.

She didn't know when exactly she had started to feel it. She had spent a lifetime ignoring those kinds of feelings because they weren't for her, and she hadn't really been the object of them, cloistered away in the Temple around people she saw as family. Don't get attached, she always told herself, and though sex wasn't forbidden to her if it produced a child, she didn't see the draw. When had she started to see Spike as...more? She had started to look at him more, started to subtly invite his touch more and not shirk it when he got too close, but this? This? Really?

She cupped his face and leaned into him, her own lips soft and uncertain against his own as she really didn't know what she was doing. She was, as she'd admitted before, woefully inexperienced. Finally, though, she pulled away with a shiver, her cheeks flushed as she stared at him with wide green eyes as though surprised at herself.

"Wh...what...what was that for...?" she finally got out breathlessly, a tremble in her voice.

It all happened so fast, and yet somehow also in slow motion.

The door burst open and in came Spike, practically flying toward her, and Fang yelped for a reason that had nothing to do with cold water.

She didn't have time to react, no time to duck or cover herself before he grabbed her. The world spun, there was a crash as Spike collided with the wall, and then suddenly they were falling, falling, and—thud! Sometime during the chaos she had clenched her eyes shut tight and tensed up, quite prepared for this to end badly, but as she laid there in stunned silence, she realized she was still in one piece, nothing hurt, and she was sprawled upon something soft and yielding instead of cold, hard porcelain.

And still the icy water was rushing into the tub, which was now slowly filling because sometime during the tussle one of them had kicked the stopper.

Disoriented and cold, goosebumps pebbling her skin as she shivered, Fang cracked her eyes open as the cushion beneath her spoke.

A cushion named Spike.

A jolt went through her and she gasped.

"Spike!" Eyes wide with horror, she sat up quickly and looked him over, hands rushing to cup his face and check his head for blood. "Oh no, oh no, are you okay?! Are you hurt? What in Inima's name happened?!" she got out in a rush, for the moment, at least, too distracted to realize...she was kind of straddling him. Naked. With everything on display and all physical signs pointing to the fact that she was freezing.

The first "you know" she understood. Knox, then? Was that a friend or employer? She chose not to ask; the "you know" seemed to imply he didn't want to go there.

Fang slipped into the room Spike indicated when he mentioned "bath", quite happy to take him up on his generosity. From the other side of the door, she was still able to hear him clearly as he spoke—and it was the second "you know" that she actually didn't know.

"Oh?" she said as she started to undress, nose wrinkling as she flung the grungy clothes to the floor. "I do? What do I know?"

Turning toward the tub, more than ready to enjoy a soak and scrub off days of ick, she suddenly froze, staring blankly at what she saw.

"Uhhh...well...I can tell you one thing I don't know," she started, stepping into the tub to get a better look at the knobs staring right back at her. "How...how do you...? What are all these things?" 

Reaching forward, she twisted one curiously—and then shrieked in surprise when icy water came blasting out full force, pouring onto her feet and splashing up her legs. She squealed again, jumping back and nearly slipping, grabbing onto the wall for support. "SPIKE! WHAT DID I DO?! How do I make it STOP?!"

Fang sputtered, choking on a laugh. She didn't look like a whale?! Oh Inima. "I should hope not! Why would I look like a whale?"

Her confidence only wavered when they actually reached the inn, her pace slowing as she once more let Spike take the lead from here. Because as they entered the building, she quickly realized a few obvious things: she had zero idea of how things worked here. Simple, basic things. The currency in her coin purse was Thanati. Would they even accept that here? The greetings were different, maybe even the way you asked for a room was different. She didn't want to offend anyone—and as her eyes fell on the clerk, a fresh wave of insecurity washed over her, the trauma of the ride over still so fresh.

What if he was judging her? Thinking she was just a...a...

She lowered her eyes and looked at the ground as Spike secured them a room. Wait, A room? Singular? She snapped a look up at him, but said nothing because...well, it made sense. They'd shared a room this long already so why not save money?

And, admittedly, the idea of being in a room alone after the last time...it made her stomach twist with an unexpected wave of anxiety.

No, no, it made sense.

Up the stairs they went and into a room that, like the tavern, had only one bed. Because of course it did. But unlike the one at the sketchy tavern, the bed was bigger, the room was much larger, had there was another door inside it that lead somewhere. Everything also looked to be of a much better quality as well. The bedding looked plush, the pillows fluffy and new, and there was even a set of chairs and a table to sit at near a window.

With a sigh of relief, Fang carefully laid her sword atop the table and slung her bag down into a chair. "Sweet Inima," she breathed. "It's almost like I'm back home. This is fancy!" she said, swinging around to beam up at Spike.