#alittlestarling

Then again, it didn’t take much when your opponent was a scrawny string bean of a teenager, constantly blowing his hair out of his eyes.  Mason sneered.  If there had been anyone nearby, he would have bet that Douglas had volunteered for the class purely so he could touch Zoe, even if said touching was her slamming her knee into his solar plexus.

He winced.  Mason could tell that Zoe was pulling her punches, but he’d been on the receiving end of that hit - he’d felt generous their last sparring session and slowed down enough for her to connect her punches.  She hit fast and she hit hard, much to his approval - and he knew that even without her full power that Douglas was going to feel that one in the morning.

He waited until the class had been concluded before approaching.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he drawled, watching as Zoe started snapping folding chairs together and handing them over to Douglas, who stacked them up alongside the wall.

She grinned.  “You remembered.”

He scoffed as he moved to help her pick up chairs, quietly smirking when Douglas turned and jogged over to them, body language all but screaming that he didn’t like the fact that Mason had shown up.  “Of course, sweetheart,” he drawled.

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.  You went into my office and saw my calendar, didn’t you?”

Mason decided not to answer that one.  “Nice class you put on, I caught the last fifteen minutes.  Covered a lot of ground, though I highly doubt that anyone’ll have to put that knowledge to use any time soon in this town.”

She shrugged.  “It’s still good information to have on hand.  You never know when some stranger will show up and crowd you in an alley.”

He sidled up to her, hovering close enough to feel the heat of her body radiate towards him.  She’d put on a plain t-shirt and yoga pants for the demonstration and his hands itched to rove over dips and curves he’d all but memorized.  “That an invitation for something, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah, if you want to get your ass kicked.”

Mason’s head whipped over to where Douglas was sullenly grabbing chairs and hauling them over to the wall.  “What was that, kid?”

“Mason -”

He ignored Zoe’s warning and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Couldn’t quite hear you.”

The tips of Douglas’ ears turned pink.  “It’s just that she’s been showing off her moves all night.  She’d eat you alive if you tried anything in an alley with her.”

“That’s…”  Zoe took a breath to try to gather her composure and try not to laugh out loud while shooting Mason a look that said don’t you dare make an innuendo.  “Thank you, Douglas, for the vote of confidence.”

Douglas smiled and gave her such a look of blind devotion that Mason found his hackles rising.  “You’re an excellent teacher, Zo,” he said dreamily.

There was a thread of irritation in Mason’s voice that he couldn’t quite get out.  “She really is, kid.  And since you’ve been tossed around all evening, I bet you picked everything up right quick.”

Douglas squared his shoulders and puffed his narrow chest out.  “I sure did,” he said, looking Mason in the eye.  Mason had to give him credit for not immediately backing down.  Then again, he hadn’t given him a proper intimidating look backed with a burst of pheremones to make the boy unnerved.  “In fact, I could probably teach you a thing or two.”

The harsh bark of laughter couldn’t be stopped, but then again, he also heard the indelicate snort Zoe gave.  “Kiddo, if you really think you could take me on, you’ve got -”

“It’s Officer Friedman,” he said, coming out of his perpetual slouch in order to stand up to his full height.  Granted, he was still several inches shorter than Mason, but the defiant look in his eye earned him the tiniest of nods of respect.  “And yes, I know I can take you on.”

Zoe stood in between them.  “Okay, I don’t think that’s the best of ideas. It’s late, we should all be getting home.”

“No, no, I want to see how this goes.”

Zoe looked over Mason’s shoulder to glare at Tina.  “Really?”  

Tina grinned.  “Honestly, I want to see just how many seconds it takes for Douglas to hit the dirt.”

Zoe reached out and grabbed Mason’s arm.  “Can I speak with you privately?” she asked, not waiting for a response as she started dragging him towards the other side of the gym.  “What is going on?”

He shrugged.  “Kid’s feeling his boundaries and wanting to pick fights.”

She narrowed her eyes.  “And you’re encouraging him.”

“Sometimes people need to know how far to test things and when the things they’re testing start to bite back.”  He tossed a look over to the teenager, who had gone back to helping Tina clean up the remaining chairs.  “Unless you want him to continue mooning over you.”

Zoe stood up straighter.  “You’re jealous.”

“Can’t get jealous of someone who doesn’t have a chance, now can I?”  The statement was said calmly enough, but he tapped out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth irritably.

She yanked it from his lips and shook her head.  “No smoking in police buildings.”

“Whatcha gonna do with that then?”

“Maybe I’ll give it back to you if you ask me nicely.”  Her smile faltered.  “Look, he’s a kid that’s thirteen years younger than me. Whatever little crush he has on me is just that, a crush.  We all had them at that age and for the most part, we all got over them.  It isn’t going to do anyone any good if the guy that he sees as some weird competition sends him to the hospital.”

Mason rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh that would have impressed Nate, had he been there. “Fine, I won’t hurt the kid.” He sneered. “Even if it would get him to stop dressing like a knockoff version of me.”

“Face it, you’re just jealous of his fancy new boots.”

He scoffed at her calling him jealous for a second time that evening. “Whatever. I have boots older and better than his.”  His grin widened as he reached out to palm her hip, his arm pulling her closer to him.  “That’s not the only thing that’s older and better either, Sweetheart.”

Zoe leaned in and pressed a kiss to his chin.  “Careful, Sunshine.  He’s going to wind up landing a lucky hit on that enormous ego of yours.”

Mason rolled his eyes and smirked. “I’m letting him get one good hit in, only so he feels like he’s doing okay.”

Zoe reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp in a way that had him letting out what could only be described as a satisfied sigh, his hand sliding down to cup her backside and bring her in until she was all but riding his thigh.  “Be careful with my officer, Mason.  I’m going to need him to be well enough to start doing patrols.”

“You two gonna make out in the corner or is Douglas going to have to go in there and break you up?” Tina teased, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard across the station’s gym floor.

“I didn’t know that was an option,” Mason retorted, giving Zoe a quick kiss and a parting nip to her bottom lip before moving away, his mouth teased up into a knowing grin as he caught the barely inaudible whine she let out at the lack of contact.  “Don’t worry, Sweetheart.  I’ll deal with this and then maybe we can go back to your place for a little wrestling match of our own.”

“Just…” she sighed.  “Dial it down a notch or a million, will you?”

Mason shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’ll go puny human level, don’t get your panties bunched up.”  Pushing the sleeves of his henley up his forearms, Mason lazily sized Douglas up, watching as he got into a fighting stance.  “Well?  You gonna throw a punch or are we standing here all night?”

Douglas narrowed his eyes and struck out, the blow easily dodged.  “Not a bad start, let’s see if one of these actually connects.”  

“Five bucks says your boy toy knocks him on his ass in less than five minutes,” Tina whispered.

“Not taking that bet.  We both know how this is going to go.”

“Yeah, with you leaving me to tend to Douglas’s bruised ego while you go and get freaky with that tall drink of oh shit, he got a hit!” Tina bounced on the balls of her feet as Mason reached up to dab at his mouth with the back of his hand, the smallest dab of red streaking across his knuckle.

“Not bad at all.  You’ve got some potential.”  Zoe was positive that there was a tiny spark of respect in Mason’s voice before he struck out with a speedy one-two combination, hitting Douglas in the chest and stomach with enough force to knock him to his knees.

“You know,” Douglas wheezed, slowly getting back to his feet.  “You don’t hit that bad either.”

Mason narrowed his eyes.  “You’re a persistent one, I’ll give you that,” he told him, dodging another punch.  Somewhere along the line, a demonstration of what Douglas had learned had boiled down to what looked like a plain fistfight, a haymaker that would have connected on anyone else going wild as Mason zipped out of the way.  He was still using enough speed and force behind his punches that didn’t raise any eyebrows, and Zoe had to roll her eyes at the fact that he even made sure to pant every now and again so it looked as if he was running out of breath.

She knew better.  He was a shitty actor, even if no one else but her could pick up on it.

Their impromptu fight ended abruptly when Mason’s fist connected with Douglas’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the mats.  “You okay, kid?” Mason asked, flexing his fingers as Tina and Zoe ran towards them.

Douglas sat up with Tina’s help.  “I think you broke my jaw.”

Mason shook his head.  “Nah.  Trust me, you’d know if it was broken.  Put some ice on it when you get home.”  He turned to look at Zoe.  “We done here, Sweetheart?”

“Everything okay, Douglas?” she asked instead, holding out a hand to help him to his feet.

“Yeah, Zoe.  It’s all good.”  She inwardly winced at the sad expression on his face, but also hoped that it would mean the beginning of the end to his fixation with her.

“Come on, Champ,” Tina said, patting him on his back.  “We’ll make a pit stop to the break room for a bag of ice and then I’ll take you out for some ice cream.”

Mason waited until they were alone.  “You’re pissed.”

Zoe turned back to face him.  “What makes you say that?”

“I bruised your officer.”

She shook her head.  “You could have done worse, but you didn’t.”  She pulled out the cigarette from her pant pocket and handed it to him.

“I didn’t even ask nicely.”  Still, Mason shook his head.  “Keep it.”

She watched his eyes darken as she shrugged her arms into his jacket, the garment too big on her.  “Maybe I’m feeling generous,” she said, digging into his jacket pockets until she found his slightly crumpled carton of cigarettes and replaced it inside.  Turning on her heel, she made her way towards the gym’s doors and flicked off the light.  “You coming or am I walking home alone?”

There was a whoosh of air and Zoe let out a grunt as her back gently hit the wall next to the light switch.  “I seem to remember me talking about having our own little wrestling match,” he said, tightening his fingers in her hair, his palm cushioning the back of her head from hitting the wall when he crowded her.

“I don’t remember agreeing,” she purred, sliding her fingers up and under the hem of his shirt, feeling the muscles of his stomach contract at the contact.  “Though maybe if you ask -”

He kissed her then, just like he’d wanted to all damn day, his mouth moving over hers and tongue dipping into her mouth to taste her.  “Please,” he murmured, lips trailing downwards over her throat as he wedged his thigh between her legs.  “Pretty fucking please.”

It took all his willpower not to shove her pants down her hips and have her there against the gym wall as she whimpered a shaky yes when his fangs skated across her skin, but he did muffle a groan into her shoulder as he let her grind against his thigh before grabbing her hips and smothering a pleased cry with his mouth.  “Keep that up, Sweetheart, and we’re not going to make it back to your place any time soon.”

“Promises, promises, Sunshine,” she replied, nipping at his lips until he melted against her, forearm braced against the wall and his other hand wandering to cup her backside and yank her closer to him.  Giving him one last kiss, she ducked under his arm, grabbing her bag and slinging it across her body before heading out of the gym and into the night.

Mason quickly shut the door behind them, letting his long legs catch him up to Zoe, who hadn’t gotten quite to the edge of the parking lot yet.  He shoved the sleeves of his shirt down to his wrists and rubbed his hands down his arms before casually resting an arm over Zoe’s shoulder.

“You want your jacket back?” she asked, wrapping her arm around his waist as they walked.

“Eventually.”  He sighed as the warmth from her body soaked into his side.  “Besides, it’s just going to wind up on your bedroom floor in a few minutes.”  Her scent was also going to linger in the lining for days, making him reluctant to light up a cigarette and have the smoke drown it out.

Not that he’d tell her that or anything.

Zoe grinned at his smile.  “Promises, promises,” she repeated, moving closer to him until she was all but glued to his side.

Mason’s smile widened into a full-blown leer.  “And you should know by now that I’m good with keeping my word.”

“I’m not arguing with you there.”  She stopped them under a streetlight and teasingly nipped at his jawline.  “Just looking forward to when you make good on them.”

Mason quickly looked around the empty streets, ears straining to hear anything over the tempting sound of Zoe’s heart.  Making a calculated move, he reached down and grabbed her, slinging her over his shoulder as he moved away from the light and zipped down the dark parts of the street in a blur until they were close to her apartment.  He would have rushed them into her complex properly, but he knew that there was that nosy neighbor on the second floor who always seemed to be looking out their window when he showed up and he didn’t want to risk anyone witnessing a display of supernatural speed.

Roz’s cheeks turned a cute shade of pink as she opened her mouth.  “I called her a scum sucking toad stuck in the bottom of the barrel she had wormed herself into.  No offense, but your mother is a horrible person.”

Rolfe bent double, his arms going around his middle as he laughed.  “Did you see her face?”  He tried to stand upright, but only managed to lean against the building they had stopped beside, the alley giving them some sort of privacy.  “Congratulations, Rosebud, but you’re one of the very few people that…” whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by a strange, slightly hysterical sounding mix of a laugh and a sob, his hand shooting up to his mouth to catch it before it came out again.

“Oh, Rolfe.”  Roz wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest, holding him as more tears came.

“He’s dead.”  Rolfe’s arms held onto Roz and she silently ran her hands down his back in soothing motions. “I used to live in fear of that man, wondering if he would continue to ignore me or if he decided that I was too much a reminder of his wife’s infidelity that day and take his aggression out on me.  I stayed as far away from Ostwick as I could because I didn’t want to run into him, and now he’s gone.”

Roz felt more than heard the ragged breath he let out.  “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing the side of his face into her hair.  “This isn’t exactly how I planned on spending our date night.”

She looked up at him and could see him struggling to put together the usual carefree, aloof expression that he always wore when he tried to hide how he was feeling.  Stretching up on the balls of her feet, she pressed a kiss to his chin, then another to his lips.  “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”  Taking his hand, she gave his fingers a supportive squeeze.  “Change of plans: let’s head over to my place, order takeout, and fall asleep watching awful movies from twenty years ago.”

“She worries,” Morrigan told him from where she was leaning against the wall nearby.  “A bit too excessively for a little girl, but I guess it’s not every day her father comes back into her life after a two year absence.”

“An absence I hope she never has to bear again,” Vincent replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, it’s truly gone?  You are a Warden no longer?”

He nodded.  “In name only.  It feels...strange.”

“How so?”

“I’ve lived with the presence of darkspawn and the nights of nightmares for so long as Warden Amell, going back to being Enchanter Amell who can sleep through the night will take some getting used to.”

She snorted.  “More like Apostate Amell, seeing as the Circles are no more.” She pushed herself off the wall and began to walk down the short corridor towards another set of rooms nearby. “And what of your former comrades in arms?  What will you do, if they try to summon you to Weisshaupt to explain exactly how you rid yourself of the Taint?” 

He frowned.  “I would like to see them try.  I’ve avoided them for a decade, I believe I can do the same for several more.”

She arched an elegant eyebrow.  “For the sake of your family, I hope that is the case.”  They stopped before a door.  “Rosalind...she has missed you.”

“And I have missed her.”  He fiddled with the rosewood ring he wore.  “I’ve missed her more than words can express.”

“She worries as well.  Life in Orlais wasn’t always as...kind to her as it was to me.  She fears that you won’t find her as desirable as you once did.”

His eyes went wide.  “That’s ridiculous!  I love her, no matter what she looks like.”

“Try telling that to her.  Some women need to hear the words.”  She nudged his shoulder with hers.  “I am glad you’re back.”

He smiled.  “I knew you’d miss me.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “I never said that.  Though I am glad that Bryony has her father and Rosalind her lover again.”  She turned on her heel and headed back in the direction they came.  “Don’t worry about tomorrow, I’ll take care of my niece so that you and Roz can have a late morning...reuniting.”

Vincent turned his face so she wouldn’t see the blush that bloomed across his cheeks, but she laughed nonetheless, raising her hand in a parting wave as she walked away.  Alone in the hall, he stared at the door in front of him and felt a bolt of anxiety streak through him.  Roz may have fears that he wouldn’t find her desirable any longer, but Vincent had the same fears as well.  The two years he had spent apart from his family hadn’t been peaceful ones. Scars littered his body, most noticeably across his face.  Would she find them ugly, as many others had?  He’d grown accustomed to using a hood or his hair to hide that side of his face from passersby, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do the same for the woman who held his heart in her hands.  Taking a bolstering breath, he raised his knuckles to the wood and knocked.

Inside her bedroom, Roz had lit only a few candles at the bedside, opting to illuminate the room with floating wisps, globules of light glowing amber above a copper tub on the far side of the room.

“You haven’t had a chance to bathe since arriving,” she explained, standing next to the tub, the steam coming off it making her look hazy, as if she were a figment of a long-remembered dream.  “I thought a soak would be nice.”

Vincent noticed the way she held her hands tightly in front of her, fingers worrying the matching rosewood ring she wore.  “That would be nice.  Thank you for thinking of me.”  He’d taken off his traveling cloak, gear, and armor earlier, and he noted that it hung neatly by the fireplace.  “This is a nice room.”

Roz nodded.  “The Inquisitor spared no luxury for their arcane advisors.”  She reached down and fussed with the cakes of soaps and towels sitting on a stool she’d put by the tub.  “I’m grateful they put Bryony in her own room nearby.”  Moving away from the tub, she held out her hands and guided him to sit at a chair so he could remove his boots.

“We’ve never had any problem filling the silences,” he told her, wiggling his toes against the plush rug as his socks followed his boots.

Roz bit her lip.  “Then why does it feel like we’re back at the start?”

Vincent rose from his seat and came up to her, hands cupping her shoulders.  “You know me, my love.  Just as I know you.”

Her brow furrowed.  “Things have changed since we last saw the other.”  There was a slight tremble to her lip and she took a sharp breath through her nose to try to still it.

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”  His fingers trailed over the silk robe she wore.  “Silks instead of wool.”  He swayed forward until his face was buried in her hair.  “Roses instead of herbs.  Though you know what hasn’t changed?”

“What?”

Vincent’s palms slid upwards, past her shoulders, over the column of her throat, until he cradled her cheeks in his hands.  “The fact that you look absolutely beautiful to me, no matter what you wear.”  He pressed his forehead against hers.  “Although I will say that I prefer you wearing nothing at all.”

She let out a watery sounding laugh, her hands trembling as she smoothed them over his chest.  “I feel the same way.”  Her fingers moved to the laces of his shirt.  “May I?”

Vincent tensed when she helped him lift his tunic over his head, muscles still sore from a skirmish the day before.  Before she could get a good look at the slashing scars across his ribs, he took her face in his hands again and kissed her, making sure to pour the years of longing and loneliness into it, silently telling her how much he had missed her.

“What about the bath?” she asked, laughing against his mouth.

“Sod the bath,” he mumbled, hands moving to remove her robe.

“Ah ah ah,” Roz reluctantly broke away.  “Those sheets are clean and you, while I very much like the look of you as is, are definitely not.”  

“I can’t even tempt you?”  His hands went to the ties of his pants and for once, the way she looked at him broke through his self-consciousness and he gave her a toothy grin as he made a show of unlacing them.

“You know I find you irresistible,” she countered, eyes roving across his naked body.  “But in.”

“As my lady commands.”  After shedding the last of his clothes, Vincent sank into the water, groaning at the way the heat seemed to sink all the way down into his bones.  “I will say,” he told her, resting his arms on the rim and tilting his head back, “I haven’t had this sort of luxury in a while.”

“Oh?  No fine inns or other places on your travels?”

He snorted, dunking his head and coming back up, hands sluicing water from his face.  “I’m afraid not.  At worst, I’ve had a frozen stream to scrub my arms and face in and at best, a pitcher and a rag with a cake of soap that was gone far before I was finished using it to scrub off the grime.”

“Well then,” Roz bent and swished her hands in the water to lather up a bar of soap that smelled of spices and myrrh.  “Let’s see if I can do one better.”

Vincent groaned as her fingers slid through his hair and massaged his scalp.  “I’ve definitely not had this sort of treatment while away.”

“I should hope not,” she laughed, playfully tugging at his hair as she finished scrubbing it, taking a cup and running water over his head to rinse his hair.  “Sit up, I’ll wash your back for you.”

“You don’t have to,” Vincent mumbled, taking another towel and lathering it up so he could scrub at his arms and chest.

“I know, but I want to.”  She watched as the suds covered his shoulders, obscuring various freckles and scars, both old and unfamiliar to her.  “Where did this one come from?” she asked, finger tracing what looked like a partially healed over bite mark.

“Wolf attack after dealing with a group of genlocks.  I ran out of lyrium potions and magic to heal it completely or else it most likely wouldn’t have scarred.”

“And this one?”

Vincent looked down to where her hands had rounded his shoulder to trace over his collarbone.  “Thief who thought he could mug me and take whatever I had off my body in Orlais.  Suffice to say, he’s not around to do the same to others.”  He grunted as he reached down to scrub at his legs and feet, his knee rising up over the surface of the water, the wounds still fresh looking and healing.

“This is why you were limping, isn’t it?”  Roz moved so she could put her hand over the injury and Vincent inhaled sharply, goosebumps breaking out over his arms at the familiar and long-missed feel of her magic settling over him like a warm, comforting blanket.  Almost immediately, the low, throbbing ache that had kept him company was silenced.

“I ran into a small pocket of those Red Templars you’d spoken about earlier.  One of them was quick with a knife, but not quick enough to dodge a bolt of lighting.”

Roz kept a hand on his knee, feeling the skin knit under her palm, and raised the other towards his face.  “And -”

He stiffened.  On reflex, he tilted his head down, trying to hide behind hair that was unfortunately slicked back from his face.  “The Deep Roads,” he said, reaching out and holding onto her hand.  It happened about six months ago, right while I was at the end of looking for answers.”

“Vincent.”  Her hand tightened on his knee.  “Please, don’t hide from me.”

“It’s ugly.”

She wiggled her hand out of his grasp and moved to lean her hip on the rim of the tub.  “The injury may be, but the man beneath them isn’t.”  She reached out again and although he tensed under her fingers, he allowed her to gently turn his face towards the light the wisps gave off.  “How did it happen?”

He closed his eyes tightly as the pads of her fingers traced the long tracks that went from his temple all the way down to his chin.  “Shriek ambush.  I was with a few fellow Wardens I’d met on my travels and one of the creatures got too close to me.”  He leaned against her hand as she moved over the deep, jagged marks across his eyebrow.  “I was lucky that I didn’t lose the eye.”

“And the others?”  

He shook his head.  “As I said, I was lucky.  After burying the others as best as I could, I spent that last leg of the journey alone.”  It had been painful: out of healing potions, out of lyrum, out of magic energy, Vincent had bandaged himself as much as he could to try and stop the bleeding, the pain of sweat and blood and various darkspawn ichor seeping into open wounds nearly unbearable.

“I wish that it hadn’t happened to you,” she murmured, her fingers tracing along his jaw and chin before catching on the corner of his mouth that had also been split by shriek talons.  “But I’m so grateful that you were able to return to me.”

“Honestly, when I was at the point where I felt most alone, my thoughts would always go to you.”  He circled her wrist with his hand and leaned his face against her palm.  “Thank you for being there with me when I needed you the most.”

Roz let out a cry as she threw herself into his arms, not caring if she managed to get most of her robe wet in the process.  “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

He held her tightly.  “I’ve missed you too.  You have no idea how many nights I spent imagining you next to me, the way the light of the campfires would catch on your hair or how just your very presence would throw a sense of calm over me when nightmares would wake me from a few hours’ rest.”

“Probably the same amount of nights I spent wishing you were here beside me,” she answered, standing and moving close to his shoulders so she could bend over him and kiss him passionately.  She grinned at his crestfallen expression when she moved away, nipping his bottom lip as she moved towards the opposite end of the tub.  “I don’t think we finished your bath, my dear,” she teased, kneeling to fish the abandoned cake of soap out of the water near his feet.  She winked at him before moving back up his body, sudsy hands submerging in the cooling bathwater to stroke at his hips, then lower, her motions making Vincent grasp at the sides of the tub with white knuckles while he bucked under her touch.

“Enough,” he rasped, standing from the tub, water sloshing onto the floor and dripping off his body.  “Please, my love.  My wife.  I need you.”  

Roz didn’t know who moved first, but her robe was off her shoulders and flung somewhere behind her, leaving her as bare as he was.  “Hand me a towel,” he requested, hands already roving over her body to press her as close to him as she could get.  “I don’t want to get your nice sheets wet.”

“Sod the sheets,” Rosalind all but growled against his mouth, hands moving across his back as she walked backwards towards the bed.

She let out a muffled shriek as Vincent gathered her in his arms and lifted her off her feet, carrying her the remainder of the way until he could lay her in the bed. “As you wish.” His hair dripped water onto her body, rolling coolly down the valley of her breasts, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.