instinct

While he was thinking about his answer, she wondered how she would have answered it.  She’d only really been intimate with a handful of men, and while the hallway of a bar was definitely up there, she was pretty sure the Magic Shack had it beat.  The conversation could have gotten awkward, but she wasn’t jealous hearing about this.  In fact, she was more curious than anything.  “A restaurant kitchen huh?  I hope you cleaned up after,” she teased, laughing softly.  “How about to make it fair, I’ll give a truth and do a dare,” she decided, nodding once.  “Hit me with your best shot.”

Westley leaned in a bit closer just because he could.  “But of course I did.”  He wasn’t going to point out it was because of the leave-nothing-behind mentality he’d adopted through several phases of his life.  It would likely sound disturbing to know the cleanliness of the kitchen was none of his concern, while saving his own skin had always been. 

“Truth first,” he said.  He spoke slowly, pondering his question, even as he spoke.  “Who is likely your most mortal enemy, and why?  Names may be changed to protect the innocent of course, I just mean whom they are to you.” 

Ursula nodded at his words, then took a seat and continued drinking the rest of the glass in her hand.  She looked around the bar, and when she might have felt a little insecure sitting alone, she felt pretty comfortable knowing Ryan would come back.  In fact, she felt pretty comfortable in general after their little dalliance in the hallway.  She hadn’t lost confidence in herself since things between her and Garrett had ended, but it was definitely nice to know she was still desirable, and that kissing was just as enjoyable as it had always been.

As she had expected, by the time he returned, she had finished the last drink.  “I actually think it was your turn to ask, but I won’t turn up a chance to get some truth for you if you’re offering,” she joked, not even trying to hide her smile as she considered what to ask.  “What is the weirdest place you’ve been intimate with someone?”

He was actually a little embarrassed when she clarified it was his turn.  That was rarely something he got wrong or lost track of.  Still, there was no legitimate shame involved, so he got over it with a sip of his drink. 

While he wasn’t shy around women, he had hesitated to go out often.  That put a damper on potential answers to his question.   He’d only let one other woman see where he lived, and it had taken a fair amount of trust and alcohol before it had happened.  He pressed his lips together and thought.  “I do think weird is subjective, but probably a restaurant kitchen after it had closed for the evening.  There is something strange about knowing a freezer big enough to hold your  body is just over yonder.”  He offered a smile, a small one that he had no idea how to explain.  Was it self-deprecation?  An appreciation of darker ironies?  He wasn’t sure.  “Truth or dare for you?  Perhaps I should take two turns in a row.” 

While she doubted anyone would notice they had been gone, and she wouldn’t really care even if they did, her lipstick just was not his shade.  If they were more involved than just having met, she might have let it slide just so she could feel some claim over him, but she didn’t feel compelled to stake one.  He wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t his.  They were two people who had just met, and all she really wanted was to keep getting to know him.  Okay, and maybe do a bit more of what they had just done, but could anyone really blame her?

Ursula followed after him, taking a few more sips of her slowly dwindling drink along the way.  It would be finished by the time he returned with the next one, she was sure.  Her eyes met his when they returned to the table, the look in his eyes causing her body to warm by at least a few degrees.  “I’ll have whatever you have,” she decided.  If he went with the same choice, that would be fine, but she’d also be just as fine with any other choice.  “Like I said, I haven’t met a drink I haven’t liked.”

Westley typically preferred to stay with one type drink once he’d settled on it, probably a result of limited options most of the time.  Not to mention, there was something pure about not mixing and matching the way his mind acted in response to a drink.  “Very well,” he agreed.  “I shall return.” 

Business was picking up a little, and it took him a bit longer to earn his refills from the bartender, but he returned victorious.  “Unfortunately, I lost track of whose turn it was in our game.  But I will select truth if you have another question to ask me.” 

A soft sound of approval escaped her when he deepened the kiss, her body growing warmer and her head growing lighter.  She had forgotten how fun this was.  Not just kissing, but getting to know someone like this again.  The flirting, the exploring, the general thrill and excitement of something new.  She didn’t feel discouraged or disappointed when he pulled away, her breathing a little labored as her eyes remained closed for a few moments longer.

When they finally opened, they watched as he pressed his lips together, then met his own as he proposed they return to their table.  A breathy laugh escaped her when he reminded her where they were, and she pulled away just a little more to look and confirm, yes, they were still in a hallway in a bar.  She supposed it was a good sign that their kiss had made her temporarily forget that.  She glanced down at the drink in her hand and then back up at him and nodded.  “I think fresh drinks would be a great idea.  So is relocating,” she agreed.  The hand that had been in his hair had slid to his shoulder while she spoke, then reached up to wipe the traces of her lipstick from his lips.  “Lead the way, handsome.”

For all his experience, he’d never had someone take care of him quite the way she did.  It was another pleasant surprise, to borrow her words from earlier.  Annora never would’ve had the confidence to wipe her own lipstick from his lips.  There was something sexy about the difference and he was probably reading way too much into it.

He didn’t mind leading her back to the table or making sure she was settled before he planned to return to the bar.  Once they’d reached the table, he dropped his gaze to her, decidedly a little more flirty-dirty than it would’ve been before he knew she could (and would) kiss him like that.  “Would you like the same thing?” 

Ursula felt really overwhelmed by all she was feeling as they kissed, so she tried to sort it all out one at a time.  First, he was a pretty good kisser.  She didn’t have a lot to compare him too, but she fell easily into the kiss and gripped at his shirt to pull him closer, which led to her next thought.  She enjoyed the kiss.  A lot.  She had a feeling it was partially because he was a good kisser and it had been a while for her, but she also felt like their little game had created just the right amount of tension.  Third, there was a small part of her that thought about Garrett, but that part was quickly silenced.  She couldn’t protect Garrett, and that was why she had sent him away, but who said she needed to get close enough to Ryan to worry about him like that?  Who said she needed to worry about him at all?  He was a pirate, which meant he was rough around the edges like her, and could probably hold his own just fine.  Any other thoughts that might have still lingered disappeared when his hands slid to her waist, her body pressing against his as she slipped one hand from his chest into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It was really easy to focus on the person he was with, the way she gripped at his shirt and then the way her hand went to his neck.  She was interesting, and the way that she kissed matched that as well as he could’ve hoped.  Not that he’d been thinking about it.  

(Oh, who was he kidding?) 

As it always did whether he was with someone else or not, his mind flashed through visions of Annora, and he put a little more of himself into the kiss that was rapidly becoming making out to get some distance.  It definitely worked.

At a natural break, when they both eventually needed to breathe, he pulled back just enough his mouth was free.  He didn’t necessarily want to disengage their bodies, but the bottom of the glass pressed into his stomach reminded him they had some unfinished drinking.  He’d actually been having a really good time with her and he wanted to keep it going.  Sex, or something like it, seemed like a quick means to an end.  That wasn’t necessarily what he was after.

He rolled his lips together and knew he was a little flushed.  He couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed.  “We should reclaim our table and get some fresh drinks and... continue this later when we aren’t in a hallway in a bar.” 

Her heart was racing in her chest, and for the first time since meeting him, she felt truly vulnerable.  He could reject her, and considering they only just met, he would have every right to.  No matter how much she hoped he wouldn’t, how much she wanted to see what kissing him would be like, it was his choice.  That was why when he said ‘yes’, the air rushed from her in a mixture of relief and anticipation.  “Yes,” she nodded, moving closer to him and letting him close the space between them.

He didn’t hesitate when she granted permission, but he didn’t attack her, either.  It was appropriately unsure, not quite hesitant but definitely not practiced or certain, either.  He liked the tentative moments of learning someone this way.  He’d always been a quick study at most anything, but this was something he could learn and feel his way through at the same time.  It was a small liberty he allowed himself, to slide his hands around her waist, but it was also too good a chance to get to know her.  

“Oh of course.  You could be a Dojo man.  Or one of those home workout guys,” she gave in, realizing her mistake.  She still shook her head over him calling her out on it.  She could feel the tension as she contemplated her choices.  Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was because she just wanted to see what would happen if she asked, but she didn’t hesitate long when the question came into her mind.  “Do you want to kiss me?”

He had no idea what she meant by a ‘dojo’ man.  He definitely was one of those home workout guys, because it was less time he was exposed to the world.  She didn’t ask though, so he didn’t volunteer the information, he just smiled.  They were drawing closer to one another, in whatever way was possible.  He wasn’t sure if it was the moment, the alcohol, or some combination.  In these kinds of moments, though, his heart rate picked up and felt a little more alive.  These moments, in other words, were key to survival. 

“Yes,” he admitted without shame or hesitation.  “May I?” 

She appreciated that he didn’t try to sneak a look while she was dealing with her bra, the reminder that he was actually a gentleman not straying too far from her mind.  Luckily, he was also a pirate, so she knew he could be just as much a scoundrel as he was a gentleman.  She waited silently, taking a few more sips from her drink while he registered her dare, then felt her eyes drop when he began lifting his shirt.  As hard as she tried, she couldn’t help but notice the differences between his and Garrett’s bodies, but she also couldn’t deny that she liked what she was seeing.  He had a defined V along the edge of his low-hanging pants, the sight causing her to subconsciously lick her lips.  His question had her attention returning north, and she nearly answered honestly until she realized the game they were still playing.  “I don’t believe I said truth,” she replied coyly.  “But I would have said it anyways.  The gym is doing you a world of good.  That’s what I think about it,” she admitted, swallowing dryly as she met his eyes.  “Truth or dare?”

Westley chuckled at her candor.  “You did not,” he confirmed.  He narrowed his eyes.  “I never said where I work out.”  They were still staring at each other as he absorbed her compliment, and his teasing died a little somewhere in the heavy glance.  “Truth.” 

“That would probably be best,” she agreed, nodding certainly.  Perhaps if she finished drinking hers quick enough, he could just get the next round.  She could have felt vulnerable being bared how she was now, but instead she felt something more akin to empowered.  He was impressed, even if he did also look a bit aroused, by what she had done.  A surprised laugh escaped her when he took a swig from her drink, her head shaking slightly.  “Let me think for a moment, but until I say so, can you turn around?” she asked, making the gesture with her finger with a smile.  Only once he had done so did she start putting her bra back on.  It was a little difficult and a lot awkward, but eventually she was able to secure the clasp and readjusted her top over it.  “Okay, you can turn around,” she spoke, standing behind him and taking her drink to sip from it.  “You said you worked out.  I want to see what you’re really working with.  Lift your shirt.”

He obediently turned as she gestured, stealing another sip from her drink as he waited for word she had sufficiently situated the maddening scrap of lace.  Well... he imagined it was maddening.  He hadn’t seen it attached to her person.  But he had an imagination, and in there, it was a frustrating device. 

He turned around, surrendered the drink, and waited for her to give him his dare orders.  He couldn’t help it, that a small grin lingered on his mouth.  He was beginning to feel the loosening effect of the alcohol, however slight.  

And her dare was something he actually hadn’t had much call to do.  He’d spent years perpetually dressed in a black uniform, and days in something a bit looser but still covered.  The only times he’d been completely shirtless for any length of time had been while he was being tortured.  This didn’t feel like torture, didn’t really conjure up any of the same emotions obviously, but it took him a moment before he could wordlessly comply.  The t-shirt was black, his refusal to stray too far from the basis of normal obvious, and balanced between tight and loose.  It was easy to slip over his abdomen and chest, catching only in his armpits.  His pants were slung a bit low on his hips, too, so he thought she likely saw a little more than she’d bargained for.  

“What are your thoughts on the template?” He asked as his shirt slipped back into place, trying to keep his tone bland but mostly failing. 

She knew this was probably a little crazy, and if it had been even a year earlier, she would have never been so bold, but he was bringing out a different side of her.  She trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her, and if she was going to complete his dare, she was going to need just a little more privacy.  The hallway to the bar’s offices would suffice.  When he agreed to come with her, she found herself smiling brightly, quirking a brow when he left his drink.  “One of the few things I was told when I got here was to never leave my drink alone,” she told him, but she trusted he knew what he was doing and led them to the hallway.

Once they were properly alone, she handed him her drink, once again trusting him not to hurt her.  “Alright, so first things first, we reach behind and unclasp the bra.  Sometimes I can do it over the shirt, other times I have to reach under the back of my shirt, but that’s step one,” she said, doing just that, her shirt riding up a bit since she had to reach under it.  “Then, we slip our straps off of our arms, like so,” she instructed, tugging the straps and slipping her arms from out of them.  “Now it’s completely detached from the body, so I can just…” she trailed off, reaching into the front of her shirt and pulling out the navy lace bra she had been wearing that night.  “Ta-da.”

She pointed out his drink and, yes, she was correct that wasn’t as cautious as he probably should have been in this world.  In the last, he had gone through the painstaking work of making himself immune to the primary poison one would slip into a drink, but here there were other possibilities.  “’Tis a wise strategy.  Maybe I’ll make another trip to the bar when we return for a fresh one.” 

Once they were out of the way, and he was holding her drink for her, he watched and listened to her explanation.  It was so simple, but so sexy.  He shook his head.  “Ta-da,” he echoed.  The words were foreign to him, but the feeling of saying them was not.  And it didn’t entirely escape his notice that his eyes were on her mouth rather than her breasts.  He helped himself to a drink from her glass.  “Your turn to prompt.  And in the tradition of meeting bold for bold, I will take a dare.” He requested, even though they weren’t done with his other dare yet until, presumably,  her bra was replaced. 

Ursula knew she could have pulled away when he leaned in closer, but she found herself not wanting to.  He was giving her one challenge after another, and she wanted to keep meeting them.  She wanted to see what more he could pull out of her, because so far, it was making her feel better than she had in quite a while.  She nodded along to his soft-spoken words, her lips pinching together when she started realizing where he was leading before he spoke his dare.  “As private as this booth is, I’m not entirely sure this is the right location,” she mused, her cheeks a soft pink as she looked around.  Grabbing her drink, she slipped out of the booth and held her hand out to him.  “Trust me?  We won’t be gone long.  I have mastered the skill you’re referring to, just don’t feel like revealing it to everyone in the bar.”

Her explanation made a certain amount of sense, at least in an abstract way to him.  And she grabbed her drink, but did not drink it, and then held her hand out to him.  Two hours ago, he hadn’t even known her and now he was reaching for his hand.  He returned the gesture, placing his hand in hers and giving her the kind of trust the moment called for and nothing more.  “Very well,” he agreed with his words.  He left his drink behind as a way to reserve their spot until they returned, and he followed her without a second glance back.

He looked far too smug while she drank all three times, but she didn’t feel like he was overly cocky about getting it right.  Surely part of his charm, which she was noticing more and more as she continued to drink.  “I never said I disliked the flirting,” she pointed out, her tongue darting out across her lips.  “I’m feeling bold.  Dare.”

“That is true, you did not,” he capitulated.  Really, he’d thrown the comment out there to give her an easy ‘out’, but it seemed she didn’t want one and  he was more than okay with that.  He bit his lip as he tried to come up with something light but still a little daring.  He leaned closer to her to make his admission that would be followed with a dare.  Give a little to get a little, right?  

“Women where I’m from wore... rather involved undergarments.  I have noticed that is not the case here, and it’s drawn my attention to another peculiar, magical skill all women seem capable of.  I dare for to show and explain how a woman can remove her bra without disturbing her shirt.” 

She sat and took a slow sip of her drink, letting the liquid settling on her tongue before swallowing and relishing in the burn.  She considered his first observation and took a drink.  After everything she’d been through, she didn’t really put up with anyone’s bullshit, and she didn’t try to give people any in return.  His second observation had her taking a bit of a larger sip, her head turning down towards the table.  She looked back up at him when he shared his third observation, her lips quirking up a little before she took one last sip.  “I do think you’re attractive, but I’m glad to know you actually were flirting,” she replied.  “Three for three.  I’m impressed.”

Westley watched her sip with the same satisfied smirk he’d imparted to Vincini after the iocaine powder in both drinks had tipped the man over, dead.  Only, she wasn’t dead and he hadn’t tricked her.  It felt better for both those things as far as interactions could go.  “I have practice reading people, but for different reasons.  And the flirting... well, it wasn’t the most subtle effort.  I can try to tone it down if you’d like.  Perhaps you can tell me as part of a truth or dare?  Lady’s choice.” 

“Exactly,” she nodded.  She opened her mouth, about to answer his question, having already picked up a few things, but he stopped her, causing her to close her mouth and stifle a laugh.  “Fine, fine,” she muttered, thinking of the right question to ask.  “You wanted to sit where you could see your surroundings, which must mean you’re at least a little perceptive.  What have you picked up from me?  To make it interesting, I’ll drink for everything you get right, and you drink for everything you get wrong.”

Westley chuckled a little, kind of uncomfortably, at her question.  Part of his discomfort was that she’d pegged him as perceptive, instead of paranoid. He pressed his hands to his mouth as he thought.  “You seem pretty to-the-point -- you know what you want and how to get it without a lot of fuss.”  He reviewed their conversation in his head again.  “You.... have loved and lost because the sympathy for me was genuine and immediate.”  Thinking three observations would round things out nicely, he considered the evidence again.  “And you appreciated my flirting, so I think you think I’m attractive.” 

“Well, when I had magic, I didn’t have to do much.  People would come to me asking for my help in achieving their deepest desires,” she admitted.  “Here in Fableton, I do something similar at work.  People come to the Magic Shack looking for something.  All I have to do is ask the right questions, pick up on the right signs, and people tend to open up.”

“I guess that’s true, if people know you can help, they would solicit the service.”  He hadn’t really thought of that, because he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually had something anyone else wanted.  “I can see how that would work, even here.  What signs are you picking up from me?”  He shook his head.  “Wait.  Don’t answer that.  It’s my turn and I pick.... truth.  Give me a hard one this time.” 

His question forced her to think, so she lifted her own glass to her lips as she did so.  Once she found her answer, she placed it back on the table top and faced him.  “Okay, this is a two-part answer,” she started.  “Because in terms of here at Fableton, being able to turn my legs into a fish’s tail is a pretty unique skill, but it wasn’t necessarily unique back where I came from.  Something that is unique more to me is that I am very good at striking deals with people.  I find out what a person’s deepest desire is and offer a way for them to achieve it.”

Westley probably should’ve seen the tail-based answer coming, since she had been a woman of the sea to begin with, but it still struck him as surreal.  He appreciated the more land-based component of her answer, too.  “And how do you discover someone’s deepest desire?”