carl@fire

"Ah, but remain assured, Mister Storm," Emma continued, looking back up at him with a fifteen-out-of-ten smirk as she waved her fork back and forth. "I've no such special affection for you whatsoever, and I've only consented to lend my aid out of a sense of pity for your lesser capability." She brought the last bit of her salad to her mouth and began to chew, continuing to watch his reaction.

Drake's eyes narrowed, and a sensation of falling enveloped him briefly before he quashed it. Wait, she's… She's just messing with me.

"Ooh, you've quite an adorably perplexed expression on your face at this moment," she said, covering her mouth as she giggled.

"You really like messing with me," he said after he'd taken a couple bites.

Her smirk leveled out into a wide smile, and she leaned forward. "I'll request that you not become too puffed with pride at the notion, but I'll concede I've developed a small fondness for these exchanges of ours." Her expression changed almost immediately into a frown as she looked down at his nearly overflowing second plate. "My, you've become too distracted by my charm to eat properly, haven't you."

He rolled his eyes in response.

She stood smoothly out of her seat, tilting forward at the waist with one hand planted next to her plate in a manner that drew his unwilling gaze to her abundant cleavage while she stepped out of the bench, then clicked around to his side and sat beside him. "Now then, let's attempt to finish this meal of yours more swiftly, shall we?" she said as she reached across the table to retrieve her own fork. "Once again, Mister Storm, please think nothing further of this than my displeasure at the inadequate speed with which you seem capable of feeding yourself." She scooped up a forkful of his stir fry and placed a hand under it as she brought it towards his mouth.

"So…you're feeding me now because I eat too slowly," he said, giving her a look.

"Quite right," she said with a neutral expression, poking softly at his lips with the tines of the fork. "While it's regrettable, I'll permit you to continue your ogling while you eat, if only as an act of charity."

He opened his mouth, and she slid the fork in, her lips twitching upwards ever so slightly when he closed down on the utensil. She removed it and swept it down for another scoop.

Drake fought to avoid laughing as he chewed, instead taking the time to carefully set his own fork down. She's almost too ridiculous. "If you were really set on speeding this up, oh leader, it'd probably be even easier if you just sat on my lap," he said, succumbing to a small fragment of the grin trying to break through the neutral expression he was attempting to maintain.

"I'd thought of such a thing, naturally," she said in a patronizing tone as she brought another forkful to and then into his mouth. "However, it seems I've a need to point out that you've occupied too much space with your burliness, and so I'd not fit into the available space." She pulled the fork back out and frowned up at him. "Oh my, Mister Storm, it seems you've even less talent for eating than I'd thought," she said. "You've all manner of remnants upon your face."

"Huh?" he said. He ran his tongue around his lips, but her expression only grew more disapproving.

"No, no, you'll never resolve it with such an impolite method," she said dismissively. "If you'll permit me," she said, tugging on his shirt as she grabbed for a napkin.

He leaned down a little, and she turned back, fastening her lips firmly to his as her hand reached up to tangle tightly in the hair on the back of his head. Her tongue flicked out, running smoothly over his lips, then dipped between them to give him a lick as he opened his mouth in surprise. She released him and pulled back after only a brief moment and began patting her mouth with the napkin. "Yes, that's resolved it nicely," she said, smirking at him with her eyes.

"Right, thanks," he said with a wry grin.

"Ideally we'll not need to rely heavily on such methods," she said as she gathered another forkful, "but, as I've said previously, it falls upon me to ensure our collective appearance remains representative of my ability as our leader. Lean down once more so I've less of a need to exert myself."

"Very good, Mister Storm, I believe we've finally reached the end," Emma said some time later, setting the fork down on the empty plate with a small, approving smile crossing her lips. "Splendidly done."

"Can I drink my own water yet, or—"

"As we've agreed previously, I'll continue to manage such things for you," she said, glancing towards the glass on the table in front of her.

"I don't remember agreeing to that," Drake said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. I think this has turned into the most intense flirting experience of my life. The past ten minutes or so had been a dizzying, distracting succession of "clean up" kisses and innuendo that had even left his dining companion breathing a little harder and with a slight pinkness in her cheeks despite how determinedly she kept her composure.

"I'm quite certain we have, and if not, I've decided it for you just now." She took a sip of water, then brought the glass to his mouth and slowly tipped it up until he stopped drinking. "Now then, as we've sated ourselves, we must progress with our task of returning our remaining colleague to her senses." She set the glass down loudly and gave him a firm look. "I'll not be distracted further, Mister Storm, no matter how aggressively nor frequently you plot to steal my lips or otherwise vent your bestial desires upon me."

"You're ridiculous," he said with a chuckle.

"Naturally I'm aware you've meant this crude statement as a compliment, and I'll regard it as such on this occasion, but truly more effort should be put into your attempts at seduction if you've the intent to woo a lady of any significant standing," Emma said with disapproval while she stood up, bracing herself heavily on his shoulder in the process and tilting herself once more to place her breasts just in front of his face while she stepped out of the bench.

"Maybe you can give me some tips on that," he said. He pushed himself up from the table and stepped over the awkward bench. Why is this a picnic table anyway? It's so random.

She sighed deeply, affecting a put-upon expression. "Very well. Such is the responsibility of the nobility, to educate those…" She frowned. "No, no, no, Mister Storm, you'll not distract me on this occasion. Our dear companion is in need of our aid!"

"Yeah, we should really start figuring that out." He successfully fought back another chuckle at her overly annoyed expression, though it was a near thing. "And will you just call me Drake? All this—"

"I've absolutely no desire to appear so familiar, Mister Storm," she interrupted with a frown. "Were I to address you thus, why, it's entirely possible you might mistake me for some doe-eyed, slatternly woman who's fallen to your meager charm." She turned and began clicking her way towards the stairs without looking back. "Come along now, we've planning to accomplish."

"Uh, planning?" Drake said as he walked quickly to catch up. "Where are we even going?" Wait, why am I getting swept up in this? I need to—

"Mister Storm, please, have you recalled nothing from my instructions regarding the method with which a lady of status should be escorted?" Emma interrupted as they stepped into the stairwell. She pulled at his right arm and wrapped her left around it, leaning into him slightly with each step. "This will do for now," she said, sounding like she was grudgingly accepting something that she found woefully inadequate.

"Right, so where are we going?" he asked again while doing his best to remain focused.

"Oh my, you've forgotten this as well?" she said in a dismayed tone. "As you'll recall, just prior to commencing our mealtime, you'd agreed with my assessment that you've a need for a proper washing after being molested without my consent by that scorpion woman. Naturally, our next destination will be that luxurious shower of yours."

"I don't know that a shower is the best use of our time," he remarked. "And we—"

"Ah, but it's a fact that I've always discovered my most impressive ideas while bathing, so I'll be accompanying you in this matter as well," she interrupted. "In this way, we can—"

"You just wanna take another shower now that you know how good they feel," he said as he looked down at her.

She gasped, returning his amused look with an outraged glare. "You've the audacity to accuse me of such… Such…" She frowned for a moment. "I've not determined precisely the word required to achieve the proper tone," she said thoughtfully. "Mister Storm, what's the word I've been seeking?"

They stepped out into the hallway, and he started to chuckle. "Liking showers?"

"Perhaps…" She cleared her throat, then resumed glaring up at him. "You've the audacity to accuse me of such shower-liking? No, no, I don't believe that's quite what I'd sought."

Drake stopped, his gaze caught on the unmarked door next to him. I don't und—

"Your accusation of misappropriating our group's time would be more acute were you to stop dawdling yourself," Emma said with a tug on his arm. "What's caught your attention now?"

"I think…" He frowned and brought his gaze around to her, growing momentarily distracted by her captivating eyes. "My brother," he said as he blinked himself out of his predicament. "Sateus said he's in here. I can't really imagine it, but—"

"Then what's caused you to grow so hesitant?" she asked, wiggling her arm free of his. "A simple enough test would determine it, wouldn't you agree?" she stepped in front of him and rapped three times on the door with her knuckles. "I'd call for him, but it's my experience that only the sound of a knock is capable of being heard," she said.

He stood in place, frozen in wait as his world narrowed to just the door.

"Seems your dear brother remains elusive," Emma said suddenly, causing him to jump. She grasped his left hand and started off down the hall, dragging him for a few steps until he regained his sense of things.

"Maybe…" Drake took a deep breath. "Sateus said he was the one in charge of cleaning things up around here? Maybe—"

"He's what?" she said as she rounded on him with an expression of total astonishment. "Mister Storm, have you taken leave of your senses? What use has a fucking deity for a cleaning servant?" She reached up and pressed her fingers to his forehead just under his hair, and her brows drew down as she stared up into his eyes. "You've no manner of fever so much as I'm capable of discerning. Is…"

She looked down at herself. "Ah, naturally you've become too distracted by my flawless figure in this dress, just as you'd done on the first occasion I'd worn it." She shook her head. "Truly this is my failure, as I'd not considered…" She let out a sigh and recaptured his right arm on her way to her own door. "It seems we've the need for a brief detour."

"Yeah, that's…probably a good point," he said as he followed along with his thoughts whirling. What's wrong with me? One mention of Zack and it's like I forgot how to think.

She pushed the door open with her free hand and pulled him into her room, walking disinterestedly through the lavish interior. "It's truly a disappointment, but I've no means to transfer the considerable wardrobe with which I've been provided into your quarters, so I'll require you to escort me here with some regularity so I might adjust my attire."

"Do you really need an escort just to come change your clothes?" he asked, coming to a halt.

She turned around and looked back at him in innocent-eyed confusion. "But I've no other means by which feel secure from unknown creatures that may wander these halls!"

He stared incredulously. "Other than slamming things around with magic and throwing fireballs, you mean?"

"Yes, aside from my intellect and my proficiency with magic, I've no defenses of which to speak," she called as she turned and strode into her bedroom. "No peeking whatsoever, Mister Storm, or I'll not allow you even a moment's rest until we've reached a full dozen."

What? "Did you just threaten to have sex with me if I peek?" he said, feeling like he'd definitely misheard.

"I've absolutely no clothes on at this moment," she called a short while later.

"What happened to no distractions?" he retorted.

"A moment, I've very nearly reached it," she called after some time.

Not getting baited. Definitely not. Against his will, a memory of her sweating, naked body arrived in his mind, and he banished it only after thoroughly verifying that he was zero-out-of-ten distracted.

"These will do," Emma said as she strode briskly back out, still wearing her red dress. She had a bundle of clothes tucked under one arm and trailed her other hand swiftly down his chest as she breezed by with an amused smile.

"Wait, you didn't even change?" he asked as he followed her out the door.