Slayers Fan Fiction ❯ Flam Gush ❯ Chapter 7

Flam Gush 7

With the two of them working together, they cleared out the rest of the bandits in short order. In fact, it took longer for Lina to pick through their collection of treasure. She was very particular about what she stole from thieves and hated the thought of being weighed down by a bunch of worthless junk. If she was going to carry it, it had better be something of value. Lina glanced over and saw that Gourry was sifting through a pile of coins, picking out the larger silvers and the occasional gold.

It had certainly felt good to be beating up on bandits again, even if she had no clue how or why Gourry had been captured. She just hoped that there was no price on their heads. She hated living under those circumstances. It was aggravating enough enduring the never-ending stream of self-proclaimed “Heroes of Justice” that chased after the bounty, and scrounging for food was less than enjoyable, but what really made the situation intolerable were the posters. Why did they have to choose the most un-flattering descriptions? “The Sworn Enemy of All Who Live” was such an over dramatization. Once, just once, would it kill them to use “Beautiful Sorcery Genius”?

When Lina finally felt like she had taken everything of value, she turned to see Gourry lounging against a wall, watching her. A slight smile of amused tolerance played about his lips, and somehow, that one small expression caused Lina to relax, even though she had not been aware that she was tense. As crazy as things had become of late, this was how things were supposed to be: she and Gourry together against bandits or whatever else came their way.

“Ready?” Lina asked as she tucked the last sack into her cloak.

He nodded, and they made their way out of the bandits' lair. As they walked through the town in a companionable silence, Gourry placed his arm around her shoulder. No sooner had she leaned into him than he stiffened. A second later, Lina caught whiff of the delectable odor of roasting meat.

“When was the last time we had real food?” Lina asked with stars sparkling in her eyes.

Gourry laughed in glee. “C'mon, I'll even treat!”

The aroma was coming from a small street-vendor, who was offering roast goose. While Gourry placed their order and dickered over the price, Lina tried not to drool at the thought of eating something besides thin rice porridge and foul-tasting medicine. In fact, she was sure she would never be able to look at cheese again without feeling queasy. She was just about to duck under the short curtain that gave diners a modicum of privacy when she caught glimpse of something from the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and sure enough, she saw a familiar hooded figure in a beige cloak. He was walking at the edge of the crowd with his head ducked down, as if he was trying to hide his face. Although his back was towards her, his outfit and demeanor left her with no doubts as to his identity.

Lina grinned and called out, “Hey, Zel!”

Gourry turned at her call. “Zel's here?”

“Over there,” Lina pointed, but her grin had faded. When she called his name, the figure had not stopped or even slowed. “What's with him?” She started to go after him, but Gourry's hand on her arm restrained her.

“Let him go, Lina. You know he always shows up when he feels like it.” Gourry handed her a roast goose leg.

Lina took it from him absently, her excitement over the food dimmed over Zel's behavior. It was like he was deliberately ignoring her, she thought with annoyance as she bit savagely into the goose leg. “Still, that's no excuse to ignore friends,” she mumbled through a mouth of food. “Somebody ought to pound some sense into his head. He's always going off on his own!”

Gourry shrugged and started into his second helping.

She was surprised to see Zelgadis, and more than a bit annoyed that he chose not to acknowledge them, but at the same time, she privately admitted to relief as well. She was not quite up to dealing with him right now. He would either be in gloomy mode, which was just plain depressing, or he would start shooting snide innuendos at them . . . Lina blushed. No, it was probably better to just avoid that particular conversation at the moment.

As Gourry moved on to his third goose leg, Lina finished her first. She considered trying to snatch it from him, but her stomach was a bit on the queasy side, probably due to the fact that rice porridge was the closest she had come to solid food in more than a week. Lina absently gnawed the end off her bone and sucked out the reddish-brown marrow. It made her stomach settle for some reason. She had started on the other end when she noticed Gourry looking at her with a strange expression. “What?”

“Do you have to eat the bones, too?”

“It's very nourishing, you know.” Lina stood up. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” Gourry polished off his last piece and wiped his hands absently on the rag he was using as a pair of pants, widening one of the rips in the process.

“To get your clothes and boots, for one thing.” Lina glanced pointedly at his pants. “You never did explain what happened.”

Gourry suppressed a shudder and leaned over to retie the rag that was keeping his borrowed pair of shoes from falling off his feet. “Yeah, I'm ready.”

“So what did happen?” Lina pressed as they started walking towards the bathhouse Ryan had led her to just a scant hour earlier. She could tell that Gourry was pretty reticent, but she had a feeling that she probably should know all the details. “Who's Garik?”

“It's pretty much like I said. We served in the same merc band for a while.”

“He certainly seems to be holding a grudge,” Lina prompted.

Gourry snorted. “Well, we never liked each other, even from the beginning. He thought I was too young to have command of a cohort, and I didn't like the way he treated his men.”

“It seems to go deeper than that, though.” Lina filed away the information that Gourry had gained a command at a young age. As much as she wanted to follow up on that, she also wanted to know what the deal was with Garik. “What was all that `pretty little girl' stuff about?”

“That was probably aimed at me.” Gourry clenched his hands into fists. “He used to call me `the pretty little boy' and sic all the gays on me.”

“What happened?” Lina filed that bit of information away as well. It explained his reaction to the “Great Hero Valun.” She hid a smile behind a cough.

“It's not funny, Lina,” Gourry remonstrated with a long suffering sigh.

“I wasn't laughing!” Lina protested, struggling to keep a straight face.

Gourry's expression was frank disbelief, but he answered her original question. “We got into a scuffle one day, and he lost his eye. I took responsibility, and the commander discharged me.”

“So that's it, then?” Lina chewed absently on her lower lip, considering the situation. “It's just an old grudge?”

“Well,” Gourry hesitated. “I think he's working for Deremar right now.”

“What?” Lina nearly choked on that one. “What gives you that idea?”

“When he came down to gloat over me, he said something about bringing the murderer of Lucilla to justice. Isn't she that girl?”

“Yeah,” Lina answered slowly. “She's `that girl.'” The niece and lover of Deremar. The girl whose murder had been pinned on the two of them in such a sloppy manner. Lina shook her head. “It just isn't making any sense. I think it's time we got some more information about Deremar.”

“Hmm.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, both lost in thought. When Lina stopped in front of the bathhouse, she felt Gourry stiffen beside her. She followed his gaze and had to stop herself from doing a double-take. There, seated in front of the bathhouse, was Ryan.

“Ryan?” She asked incredulously, noting that he was holding a bundle of clothes, and Gourry's boots were sitting by his feet. “What are you still doing here?”

“What's it look like?” Ryan replied casually. “I'm waiting for you guys. The hostess gave me his clothes,” Ryan thrust his chin in Gourry's direction, “and boots after you took off. I figured you'd probably show up here sooner or later.”

Lina stared at him incredulously. Although it had been a long time since they had been close, she could tell he was lying, even if she had no idea why. Having him there made her feel incredibly awkward, almost like she had done something wrong. She glanced at Gourry, only to catch his eyes moving back and forth between her and Ryan. The tightness around his jaw did little to put her at ease, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as the silence dragged out.

Finally, she could bear the uneasy tableau no longer. “Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm dying for a bath,” she announced. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and marched into the bathhouse, determined to think about nothing else save the hot water waiting for her.

The hostess was a young girl who smiled pleasantly when she entered the bathhouse. Lina asked for a small private room, and within moments, she was escorted back to the room she had been in earlier that morning, the room that Gourry had used the previous night. She sighed a bit, partially in relief that she had found Gourry, and partially in remembrance of the frantic way she had felt the last time she had been here.

“Is there a problem, Miss?” The maid asked as she placed a stack of towels on a small stool.

Lina smiled at her. “No, no problem. This is great, thanks.”

“Please feel free to contact us if there is anything else you need,” the maid replied as she bowed and left the room.

As soon as the doors snicked shut, Lina shucked off her clothes, leaving them in an unkempt pile on the floor. Her skin positively itched, and she eyed the soap avariciously. She focused on the current task at hand, scrubbing herself clean.

It was only after she had washed and slipped into the tub to soak that her mind started to wander, and she found herself thinking about Ryan. And Gourry. She felt tears coming to her eyes and she lowered her head, sobbing quietly.

*******************

Gourry watched Lina flee into the relative safety of the bathhouse, recognizing her retreat for what it was. The random thought that he was missing yet another chance to wash her back flitted through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it and turned to face Ryan.

“Here.” Ryan tossed the bundle of clothes at Gourry, who snagged them easily out of the air. “You probably want to change, right?” He stared pointedly at the rags Gourry was wearing.

“Yeah, thanks,” Gourry replied. He wondered what was going on between Ryan and Lina. In spite of the way Ryan had reacted to Lina when she was unconscious, just now both of them had seemed ill-at-ease.

Ryan shrugged, but the way his eyes bored into Gourry's belayed that casual gesture. “You guys got back a lot sooner than I expected, although to be honest, I didn't expect you to be with her.”

“Really?” Gourry wondered what was going on here. He felt like he was being challenged, but this was a kind of duel at which he had very little skill. What would Lina do in a situation like this? She would pump him for information, of course. Well, there was one thing he was curious about . . . “Lina didn't believe you when you said you were just waiting.”

Ryan winced almost imperceptibly. “You thought so, too, hunh?”

His response took Gourry aback on several levels. He struggled with his feelings, trying to decide if he liked Ryan or not. He definitely did not like what he had seen the other night—the way Ryan had spoken to Lina, the way he had touched her so familiarly—or that look in his eyes whenever he saw her. Ryan's casual admission that he and Lina knew each other well enough to read each other so easily also made him uneasy. On the other hand, Ryan openly acknowledged that there was a relationship between Lina and Gourry, even suggesting that there was camaraderie between them because of that similarity. Gourry found himself smiling, albeit weakly. “Yeah, I thought so.” It was an acknowledgement. And a claim.

“Lina and I grew up together.” Ryan waved his hand dismissively.

“Really?” Gourry repeated himself. He tried to imagine her as a little girl doing little-girl-type things, but instead, he pictured her doing all the things he had done as a boy—snitching food from the kitchen, running around exploring dark and dirty corners of the keep, playing monsters and dragons, that type of thing. “Lina doesn't talk much about her past.” He would bet anything Lina had been a total tomboy, though.

Something—was it disappointment?—flared in Ryan's eyes, but he masked it quickly. “Yeah, she's always been like that,” he replied pleasantly enough. “So,” Ryan asked with exaggerated casualness, “how long have you been with Lina?”

“I don't know. It's been a while, I guess.” Gourry shrugged.

“You guess?” Ryan pressed, as he leaned forward slightly.

“I haven't exactly been keeping records or anything if that's what you mean.” He wondered why it seemed to matter so much to the other man. “Maybe you should ask Lina,” he suggested, barely even noticing the affectionate smile that came to his lips when he mentioned her name, “I'm sure she could tell you how long it's been to the day.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, I bet she could at that. She always did have a mind for details. Must be the merchant blood.” A shadow crossed his face, but he covered it by standing up and stretching. “Well,” he said, holding his hand out to Gourry, “it's been nice talking to you.”

“You're not going to wait for Lina?” Gourry asked in surprise as he shook Ryan's hand.

Ryan looked startled and a bit guilty as he withdrew his hand from Gourry's grip. “Um . . . Well, no. There's something I need to take care of . . . business matters, you understand . . .” Ryan trailed off and stared at a point over Gourry's shoulder. Gourry followed his gaze, and wondered what was so interesting about that particular second story window.

“Well, thanks for watching my stuff.”

Ryan shrugged. “No problem,” he replied with a smile. “See you around, Gourry.”

Gourry watched as Ryan walked away whistling a jaunty little tune, wondering if he could trust the man or not. He seemed genuinely friendly. But. Gourry was unsure what the “but” was, but it was there. And it was more than the fact that Ryan was Lina's old boyfriend or whatever.

Well, one thing was certain. There was no way he would solve anything just standing in the front of a bathhouse in rags. Although he was still relatively clean from his bath the night before, his flesh still remembered the stink of the dank cell and the disgustingly sensuous feel of Zeil pulling away his towel. Hot water and soap would help to scrub it away. Without a second thought, Gourry scooped up his boots and entered the bathhouse.

The hostess was different from the one he had encountered the previous evening. She was young, rather than matronly, and she looked as if she smelled something bad, the way her face was puckered up. She looked Gourry up and down with a barely concealed sneer on her face. He could easily imagine what she saw: a scruffy looking man in rags. “Can I help you sir?” She asked in a tone that clearly indicated her doubt that she could help him at all.

Gourry pulled a silver coin from the sack tied to the rope he was currently using for a belt and placed it on the small counter she stood behind. “I'd like to use the baths,” he said calmly.

She stared at the coin for a moment, and she looked like she was arguing with herself. Finally her hand snaked out and snatched the coin, as if she were afraid it would disappear if she failed to grab it quickly enough. She pulled a fluffy white towel off the stack behind her and tossed it at Gourry. “The public baths are that way,” she said shortly with a gesture down the hall to her right.

“Thank you.”

Gourry heard her grunt in reply as he walked away, and he sighed to himself. The wandering poor had always been welcome at Gabriev Keep. They were always given a warm meal, a dry place to sleep in the barn, and were usually sent on their way with a few coins. It had been such a shock the first time he saw a beggar mistreated. It had been Garik, actually. No surprise there, really, and that was probably another reason for his dislike of the man. It appeared that Garik was more the norm in this particular case, though. No one seemed to like the poor. Lina had been really upset the first time he had tossed some coins to a ragged group crying charity outside some small town. It was a recurring argument, actually. Lina thought that beggars deserved their lot. If they were unhappy with their life, they should get up and work, instead of depending on handouts from hard-working people. Gourry tended to think that those with more should help those with less.

Once Gourry arrived in the bathing room, he stripped with a great sigh of relief. He had managed to stop thinking about the wet spot in the trousers, particularly after said wet spot had dried, but the reek of blood, smoke, and stale sex remained. Maybe that explained why the hostess had been wrinkling her nose. At any rate, Gourry was quite happy to wad the rags up into a ball and toss them into a corner. He took his time bathing, knowing that Lina was probably going to be a while. Once he felt suitably clean, he soaked a bit in the public tub, relaxing and half-listening to the chatter of the other men there.

One conversation in particular caught his attention.

“Hey, did you hear about what's going on in Fenwic?”

“You mean about Deremar?”

“Yeah. I heard he's marrying his niece off to some Elmekian baron.”

That particular statement gave Gourry quite the pause.

“That's not what I heard. I heard that Deremar tried to kill his niece. It was some kind of demonic ritual or something.”

“No way! You're kidding, right?”

“Nope.” There was a short pause and then a laugh. “Maybe he's doing both!”

“Wouldn't surprise me in the least. He always was a greedy bastard.”

“Ain't that the truth. All merchants are greedy bastards, though.”

“Yeah. Just yesterday, one of them tried to give me half of what he'd promised for the cloth we'd produced . . .”

The conversation shifted to the vagaries of wool production, and Gourry lost interest. It was strange. Although it seemed Deremar had sent out Garik after them, there was no price on their heads. And what was that part about marrying his niece to an Elmekian baron? That was just . . . downright bizarre. Elmekia was pretty far away, and about the only time he ever heard anyone mention Elmekia was when they were casting that spell, Elmekia something-or-other. He shrugged to himself and tried to remember the conversation. If he told Lina, she would probably be able to figure out what was going on.

Gourry stepped out of the tub and toweled himself dry. It was a relief to slip into his own clothes, especially the boots. As he wandered out to the entrance, he glanced around for Lina, not that he expected to see her. She would probably take a nice long soak. As he glanced around, the hostess caught his eye. It was the same girl, but this time she was smiling pleasantly at him.

“Did everything meet your expectations, sir?” She asked politely.

“Yeah . . . everything was fine.” Gourry replied slowly, wondering if she even realized he was the same person as the one she had turned her nose up before. He doubted that he looked that different. Same hair, same face, same body, just different clothes. Then a thought occurred to him. “Did a girl about this tall,” Gourry held his hand a bit below chest-height, “come out?” He paused a moment, and then added as an afterthought, “She would've had a red tunic and a black cloak.”

“Hmm . . .” the hostess tapped a finger against her cheek. “Did she have long sorta reddish hair?”

“Yeah, that would be her.”

“I don't think she's come out yet.”

“Would you tell her that I'll be waiting for her outside?”

“Certainly. Have a nice day, sir.”

Gourry exited the bathhouse and sat on the same bench where Ryan had been waiting for them. He wondered how long Lina would take. Probably until her stomach started rumbling . . . Well, there was no real reason to hurry.

He passed the time watching people go about their business. There was a lot of activity, as it was the middle of the day, the time when people seemed to be the busiest for some reason. By the time the mid-day activity slowed, Gourry was tired of watching people and beyond bored—he was actually on the verge of falling asleep. He stood up and stretched, taking a quick glance at the sun. It was well beyond its zenith, perhaps mid-way along its descent, and he thought that Lina should certainly be done by now.

Just as he was deciding to go back in and ask the hostess if she had seen Lina, the girl came out.

“Oh,” she said in surprise as she saw Gourry standing by the bench. “Are you still waiting for your friend?”

“Yeah,” Gourry replied, wondering if he had somehow missed Lina, or if she had come out a different exit. “Did you see her?”

“No,” she replied slowly, tapping her finger against the side of her cheek again.

“Could you check on her, please?” Gourry was starting to feel just the edges of worry. He doubted that anything would happen in broad daylight, but this was the same bathhouse he had been abducted from just the previous night.

“Please wait here,” she indicated, when Gourry tried to follow her down the hall.

He hesitated for half a second, and then he shook his head as he dropped in behind her. Almost immediately, she stopped and turned around, taking a breath to say something. Whatever it was, she changed her mind when she saw the look on his face. Her mouth snapped shut in a thin line that barely concealed a mixture of annoyance and fear. Without a word, she marched down the hall, leading Gourry straight to a very familiar room: the same one in which he had bathed last night. He felt a tight knot of worry deep in his guts. This was not good.

The hostess knocked softly on the door, leaning her ear against it to hear any response. A few seconds went by . . . a moment . . . and then another. Nothing. No response. The hostess lifted her hand to knock again, but Gourry shouldered her out of the way, oblivious to her venomous glance, and banged on the door with an upraised fist. “Lina?” he called loudly, “Lina, are you in there?”

Five, he would count out five heart-beats, and if there was no answer by then, he was breaking the door down. /One./ Gourry refused to consider what he would do if she was missing. /Two./ It was so stupid. They should have found another place. /Three./ A safer place without such a bad track record. /Four./ He should never have let her out of his sight. /Five./ Gourry backed across the hall.

The hostess, sensing what he intended to do, stepped in front of the door, her arms outspread. “Oh no you don't!” she declared with some heat. “We run a respectable place, here, Mister! Hey—”

Before she could react, Gourry switched to Plan B. He drew his sword and cut a new door, right through the wall. Her protests were ignored as he launched himself through the new entrance, holding his breath against what he hoped not to see.

*******************

“I said I was sorry,” Lina repeated for at least the tenth time as she viciously toweled her hair dry behind a privacy screen.

There was no response—not that she expected one.

Well, was it her fault that she had fallen asleep in the bath? It had been warm and comfortable, and she had felt so relaxed. More relaxed than she had been in such a long time. And, she had been tired. After spending the past week or more convalescing, it had surprised her that using magic would exhaust her so. Apparently she had been more seriously injured that she had realized. She really had not intended to sleep so long—or to worry Gourry. Vaguely, she recalled waking a few times, but in each case, she had felt waves of lethargy crashing through her, and opening her eyes was such a struggle that she had just given in to the demands of her body. Sleep really was the best way for her to recover her strength. Sleep and food, she amended as her stomach growled insistently.

She peeked around the edge of the privacy screen. Gourry was leaning against a wall, his arms folded impassively across his chest, just staring off into space. Yup. No doubt about it, he was still steamed.

After he had come crashing into the room, to find her muzzily lifting her head from pillowed arms, the hostess had gone into a tirade about damaging private property and the like. She had been so strident that Lina had felt the beginnings of a headache, and, as much as it galled her, she finally stepped in and promised to pay for the damages, before the woman would go away. Gourry had stood silent and impassive in his current pose.

Not that it was really her fault, Lina thought as she buttoned her last decent tunic. She did feel bad that she had made Gourry worry, but if he had come into the baths with her in the first place, they could have avoided this entire messy situation. And there would be no need to pay for the damages to the wall.

Lina sighed. She was really tired of paying for damages. Especially when they were not really her fault.

The glimmer of an idea tickled in the back of her mind, and she tried to coax it out to the front. Naga. It had something to do with Naga and her “original” spell that combined a golem with an elemental spirit. She shook her head, wondering what brought this to mind. Honestly, it seemed wildly inappropriate . . . But try as she might to focus on her current situation—and how she could figure out a way to avoid paying for what essentially amounted to renovations of this room—her mind kept returning to the image of Naga summoning a ridiculous looking dragon made of rock. The thing's head and neck had been too big for its tiny body, and it had been more of a menace to them than a help, as many of Naga's spells tended to be. When it crashed to the ground, it had crumbled back into rock, but for a brief moment, man that thing had looked impressive. The problem had been maintaining control over the earth spirit Naga had summoned to animate the rock . . . the glimmer of an idea flared brightly, and Lina eagerly seized hold of it.

If she could summon an elemental, probably just a minor one, and control it, she might be able to get it to repair the wall. And if she was really lucky, the wall would still be intact when she dismissed the spirit. Naga's dragon had disintegrated, but Lina thought it was just as likely that the thing collapsed under its own weight. The idea, assuming it worked, had multiple attractions, the least of which was improving upon a spell of Naga's. Just imagining the look on that sour hostess' face when she told her that she had no clue of what damages she was talking about . . . that in and of itself made the whole attempt worthwhile.

As she walked over to the busted wall, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Gourry was watching her instead of staring into space, but the idea had grabbed hold of her, and she just had to find out if she was right. Half a dozen possible uses sprang to mind immediately—like fixing a broken ship and not being stuck dead at sea and starving.

With a deep breath, she summoned the elemental. That turned out to be the easy part. Getting it to understand what she wanted it to do was much more difficult. The words “fix,” “repair,” or “make whole,” seemed to have no meaning to it, but when Lina focused her mind on an image of what she wanted accomplished, she found that the wall was returned to its original state in almost no time at all. Now for the tricky part. She dismissed the elemental, and held her breath. So far, so good . . . . She placed her hand cautiously against the wall, ready to pull it back if it gave any indication that it was going to come crashing down, and then pushed a bit harder when it held. Yup, no doubt about it. She was a sorcery genius. Lina smiled in smug self-satisfaction over her handiwork.

“That's a neat trick,” Gourry said from right behind her.

Lina whirled around, a bit startled. “So, you're not mad at me anymore?”

“I guess not,” Gourry answered with a sigh.

“Good!” Lina grabbed his arm. “Then let's go eat! I'm starving!”

The confrontation with the hostess turned out to be rather anticlimactic. Lina figured the girl was just as happy to have the damages repaired. Once they left the bathhouse, they simply followed their noses to a small eating establishment that had an adequate menu and decent prices.

After filling her stomach, Lina felt nearly herself. She pushed her chair back and watched people pass by outside the window of the little restaurant they had found. Once again, she noticed a familiar looking figure. “Hey, there's Zel, again!” she pointed out enthusiastically.

“Where?” Gourry turned his head. As he did, Lina snitched a spoonful of mashed potatoes from his plate.

“Ah,” Lina said in disgust after quickly swallowing, “he ducked out of sight again! It's like he's actively avoiding us or something.”

“You think?” Gourry turned his attention back to his food. “Lina,” he growled, eyeing her empty plate.

“What?” Lina put on her most innocent expression, and casually reached across the table to help herself to more of his food.

Just as her spoon was coming down, Gourry snatched his plate out of her reach and shoveled the remaining food into his mouth.

“Aww,” Lina pouted. “That's not playing fair, Gourry!”

“Fair's got nothin' to do wi' it,” he answered though a mouthful of food, although there was a gleam in his eye.

The retort on Lina's lips died as she caught glimpse of another familiar figure hurrying across the street. It was Ryan and it looked like he was going in the same direction Zel had gone. She shook her head, forcibly dispelling stray thoughts. No. She was not—absolutely not—going to think about Ryan right now.

“What's wrong?” Gourry reached across the table, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, his eyes full of concern.

“Nothing,” Lina replied too quickly. She could easily see his disbelief, and she sighed briefly. “Nothing that I want to talk about right now,” she amended.

Gourry's eyes held hers a moment longer, and then he seemed to dismiss the incident, for which Lina was intensely grateful. “Are you done?” he asked as he stood up.

“Yeah, for now at least.” Lina stood up as well, tossing her napkin on a stack of dirty dishes.

“Good, then let's go!” he replied with enthusiasm.

“Go where?” She was a bit taken aback. Usually she led, and Gourry followed. It was a bit strange to see him taking the lead.

“Shopping, of course. I saw the perfect place when we were walking over.”

Lina allowed herself to be led to Gourry's “perfect place”. Although she had been extremely leery about her commitment to allow him to pick the outfit if he was going to pay, she also privately confessed to herself that she was incredibly curious as to what he would choose. His taste in clothing was fairly decent, if his own outfit was any indication. He tended to choose blues, which Lina knew would look awful with her coloring, but there was nothing wrong with the style. It was serviceable, practical, and easily washed, all important considerations for their peripatetic lifestyle.

The shop turned out to be more like a little boutique, and what Lina saw in the window failed to inspire her with confidence. There were swaths of lace, and ribbons, silks and satins, but nothing that actually advertised what the place sold. “Are you sure about this?” Lina asked when Gourry opened the door, causing a tiny bell to tinkle pleasantly.

“Yup,” was his only reply as he tugged her into the shop.

“Can I help you?” A matronly woman ducked from behind a curtain. She blinked a bit when she saw Gourry, and then her gaze settled on Lina. For some reason, something about her expression made Lina want to blush.

Gourry pushed Lina in front of him. “She needs some proper underwear and a bra or two. Oh, and a couple of chemises as well,” he said in a casual tone, as if he were ordering food off a menu.

Lina felt her face go crimson. She turned on Gourry, her hands clenched in fists at her side. “What do you mean `proper underwear,'” she hissed. “And how would a jellyfish like you know what proper underwear is, anyways.” Never mind the fact that they had been intimate. The thought of Gourry picking out her underclothes just felt . . . wrong. Obscene, even. And then there was the fact that she . . . well . . . filling a bra . . . Lina felt her face heat up a few more degrees.

With a chuckle that was only partially amused, Gourry caught one of her hands and uncurled the clenched fingers. He leaned forward and whispered, “Well, I learned about proper underwear from all those times you dressed me up in drag, of course.” He gave her a gentle nudge in the direction of the shopkeeper and spoke in a normal tone of voice. “I'll just be waiting outside. Take your time, Lina.”

There was definitely a spring in his step as he exited the shop. Lina muttered a few choice oaths under her breath and considered following him. After all, she had reserved veto rights. But. As embarrassing as it was to have Gourry lead her into a place that sold lingerie, a small voice at the back of her mind suggested that maybe she wanted to try on frilly lacy underthings. And, as small as the voice was, Lina knew that it was right. She had been a bit on the envious side when she had seen Amelia's underclothes—in fact it had been Amelia who had insisted on the bra and panties that time they had dressed Gourry up to evade the bounty hunters around Sandoria—although she rationalized that they were too expensive to justify. Nobles and princesses could afford fancy underthings. Merchants and the lower classes did without. But, if Gourry were paying, then there was no need to feel like she was spending extravagantly for no purpose. Lina deliberately squelched the thought that Gourry was not really paying since the money came out of their common fund.

With a smile she hoped would cover her trepidation, Lina turned to face the matronly shopkeeper.

“This way, dear.” The woman ushered Lina into the back room. “Your young man wants you dressed—or undressed,” she corrected herself with a chuckle, “in sexy attire.”

Lina started choking a bit on that, and tried to stammer out a reply.

“No, no need to worry, dear.” She paused and held Lina at arms length, sizing her up. Lina felt herself blushing again, and the older woman's eyes twinkled. “My name is Merla.” She paused, a tacit request for Lina's name.

“I'm Lina Inverse,” Lina responded. Merla's eyebrows raised slightly, but she gave no other indication that she recognized the name.

“Well, Lina, let's take your measurements,” Merla said briskly, pulling out a long knotted cord. “Then I can show you some samples for you to choose from.”

Merla proceeded to measure Lina every which way. Some were familiar and expected—around the hips, waist and bust for example. Others made absolutely no sense to Lina. She measured the length of her arms and legs, her wrists and ankles, her neck, and from shoulder to shoulder—both straight across her back and going down her torso, through her crotch and back up the other side. Lina blushed at that one, but it turned out to be the worst of them. Merla murmured numbers to herself as she measured, but they made no sense to Lina. At last, the woman seemed satisfied, and she wound her cord up, tucking it away.

“Now,” Merla announced, rubbing her hands together. “Silk or satin?”

Everything became a blur at that point, with endless options presented to Lina. There was lace or bows, no lace, no bows, all lace—that particular example really had Lina blushing. Lina opted for something simple in the silk, and then she had to choose from an assortment of colors: pink, beige, white, black, ivory, pale blue, lilac . . . she had never known that underwear came in so many colors. The biggest surprise was the bra. Not only did it fit Lina perfectly, but as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was amazed to see that she looked more like a woman—not as well endowed as most of the women she knew, but definitely not a flat-chested kid. Finally, Lina had made all her choices. Merla wrapped the chemises in a square of plain rough linen, promising to have the rest ready by the next afternoon, and Lina called Gourry in to pay for her purchases.

Next, Gourry ushered her into a tailor's shop, where he picked out two shirts—one sleeveless turtleneck in a forest green color, the other a creamy peach colored scoop-neck. He also selected two sets of leggings—one rust-colored and the other a dark brown. The tailor also took Lina's measurements, although he was not quite as thorough as Merla had been, and promised that the alterations would be finished by the following evening.

When Lina and Gourry finally finished with their shopping, the sun had set, and the city lights had been lit. They walked back to Siebert's in a companionable silence. Lina privately conceded that Gourry had good taste. At least he had the sense not to suggest she wear blue. Although the clothes had been a bit on the baggy side when she tried them on, they had flattered her figure far more than anything else she had ever worn.

“What do you say we stop for dinner before going back to Siebert's?” Lina suggested.

“Sounds good,” Gourry agreed.

“I've got a better idea,” a vaguely familiar voice from the shadows suggested. “Why don't you come with me, instead.” Deremar's greasy steward, Elfred stepped out of the shadows, flanked by Garik. “My master is most . . . eager to meet with you.”