#e-whiskey

~~

A hush falls over the contestants as the Game Master appears at the top of the Stadium, his characteristic bright smile gracing his lips as he sips from a colorful drink in one hand. 

The mysterious man bounds down the stairs and easily jumps down the ten-foot walls into the center of the arena without spilling his overfilled glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Business Venture’s first Fight Night!” his voice rings throughout the stadium, magically enhanced in some manner as a spotlight falls on him. “The first fight of the night,” he throws his hands out to his sides in a dramatic broad gesture and uses illusion magic to illuminate two men on either side of him on the viewing platform, “Round One: Garrick Whitman versus Erik Statton!”

“Of fucking course,” Erik groans as he picks his shield and spear off the ground and cautiously approaches the ladder while Garrick hops over the fence with practiced ease and lands hard on the sand-covered ground.

The lights come up on the first fight of the night. The arena is a barren circle with ten-foot stone walls stretching up. At the top of the walls stands the other opponents watching with apt interest -or malicious joy- and hundreds of Geralds in the stands behind them. The unblinking, glowing eyes of the Geralds match the shimmering stars above their heads, sending a shiver down Erik's spine as he scans his surroundings. 

He quickly shifts his gaze to the dwarf standing at the opposite end of the arena. He holds a sword in one hand and tries to seem intimidating, but Erik can see through it. Whitman’s eyes are alight with a nervous energy that seems to radiate out from him. 

Erik shifts the spear in his hand, testing the weight in his hand as he hoists up shield up a little higher.

“Why did I agree to this?” he grumbles, pushing his heel back to brace for the fight to begin, but is distracted by something slick touching his heel. “The hell?” He chances a glance at his feet and is irritated to find a slick, grey-tinted liquid surrounding him. A slew of quiet curses mixed with Twist’s name fall from his mouth as he kicks sand over the grease to give himself a chance to move.

A rope appears seemingly from the ceiling, falling gracefully into the Game Master’s outstretched hand. He locks one knee around it and pulls the rope flush with him as he says with far too much enjoyment for the tiefling’s liking, “first to three successful hits wins the round and moves on!” As if cued by his words, the Game Master, grinning like a child with a toy gun, is lifted off the ground by the rope and carried to the press box that overlooks everything. “Fight!” 

Garrick apprehensively takes a step forward and Erik readies his spear.

It may not be clear to the people watching from elsewhere on the ship, but none of the opponents -except for Munson and Twist- want to fight, so everyone is wound tight like a bowstring, ready to snap. 

“If only I could relax the damn string,” the tiefling thinks ideally before an idea occurs to him. 

With a shaking breath, he straightens to his full height and discards his shield and spear.

“What in the hell are you doin’?!” Whitman growls, glancing around for traps.

“Trust me,” Erik says low enough for only the dwarf to hear before turning to the Game Master’s observation area. “I concede! I ain’t fightin’!”

“What the fuck is your play here?” Garrick demands, lowering his sword slightly as surprised whispering ripples through the contestants. 

Erik gives him a tiny smile and cocks an eyebrow before returning his attention to the press box. “Give him the point, I’m tappin’ out.”

“Mr. Statton, I’m afraid you misunderstand the rules,” the Game Master says over some speaker system that the tiefling did not know was present. “You must give us a spectacle.”

“A spectacle, huh?” the young man parrots back. A smug expression crosses his face as he spares the dwarf a devious glance before looking back. “And I suppose you thought that would be me fightin’ my ‘enemy’.”

“That would be correct,” the Game Master says, an irritated edge to his voice. “Now if you would proceed with the show, Mr. Statton.”

The tiefling’s tail flicks dangerously behind him. He looks to Garrick, who thinks for a moment before nodding with a small grin of his own. “How’s this for a spectacle?” He easily steps over the grease, leaving his discarded weapons, and walks confidently over to Whitman. He steeps low and grabs the dwarf by the lapels of his suit jacket, and kisses him deeply, pointedly ignoring the very loud gasps. 

He pulls back and reveals a golden chain necklace from under his shirt and proudly displays the ornate ring hanging from the bottom of it. 

Erik is stressed, pacing back and forth in his room like a caged animal. He might have just ruined his life and there is fuck all he could do to fix it.

This is all the Game Master's fault, he reasons. He found their secrets. He put the gun to their head.

Now, Erik did not know the other contestant's secrets, and their secrets could easily ruin their lives and their company just as Erik's could, but his secret doesn't affect his company. It affects him. It affects his marriage.

Three solid knocks ring from his door, nearly scaring the tiefling out of his skin. For a moment, he considers not answering it. He has a guess about who stands on the other side and he doesn't know if he is ready for that conversation just yet.

"Erik, it's me. Let me in," Whitman's voice rings from the other side.

The tiefling tenses until he shakes before nervously approaching the door. Garrick doesn't sound mad, he sounds just as scared as Erik feels.

"I woulda thought you went drinkin'," Erik murmurs as he opens the door for the dwarf.

"Wanted to talk to you before I drank myself stupid," Garrick answers as he steps through the door, maneuvering until he is standing in the center of the living area. Erik's room is set up to accommodate many people with a living room area taking up the right half of the room and a bar/kitchen area taking up the rest, leaving his bedroom behind a locked door. The tiefling intentionally requested his room like this so he and Garrick can hang out when they had downtime, but they haven't been able to do that, and given how today has gone for Erik, he might never get to spend time with his husband again.

His throat tightens at the idea nearly making him gag.

Erik hates this. He hates how guilty he feels, he hates how nervous he feels, and above that, he hates how nervous Garrick looks. The dwarf should know he can trust him. Well, "should" being the keyword. Erik might have just broken that because he didn't push the button.

No matter what Garrick says or does or did, Erik didn't push the button.

The pair stand in uncomfortable silence, not looking at each other as they stand far apart, like strangers, until the tiefling can't stand it.

"Garrick I'm-" Erik begins only for the dwarf to begin talking at the same time, faster and louder than the tiefling.

"I didn't push the button," he spits out quickly, guilt dripping from every word as he wrings his hands. A wave of relief crashes over the tiefling, but Garrick continues talking, "I'm so fuckin' sorry, baby. I didn't know what to do, I know the odds -I know the game- but I couldn't do it. I'm sick of fightin' with you constantly in public and I don't wanna live in hidin' anymore, I don't wanna hide you." His eyes are darting around, never looking at Erik. "I know we wanted to wait until it was a little safer in Wecland, but I-" he stops, looking up at the tiefling, pale with anxiety in a way that Erik hasn't seen on him. "I'm so fuckin' sorry."

Before Erik can respond, Garrick is walking to the door.

"'Ey! Hold on-!" the tiefling exclaims, walking after him, grabbing him by the wrist, and trying to pull the dwarf back to him only for Garrick to rip his hand away like his touch burns him. The action hurts Erik, but he understands it as the dwarf shakes his head. "No, you're mad, and I don't wanna fight right now-"

Erik shuts him up with a kiss, wrapping his arms around the dwarf in order to pull the shorter flush with him. Garrick is stunned, but only for a moment before he is kissing back like it's his lifeline.

When they pull apart, they rest their foreheads together, Erik smiling and Garrick confused.

"You are the stupidest motherfuckin' dumbass I have ever met, Garrick Whitman," Erik says, pure emotion laced into his words as he kisses him sweetly. "And I love you so much."

The dwarf blinks slowly. "So, I ain't a single man?" he asks, eyebrows scrunched.

"Why would I break up with you? I ain't a hypocrite," Erik teases before pausing. "Well, I am. I am a hypocrite, but not right now."

Realization dawns on the shorter. "You didn't push it either," he says, looking for confirmation. Erik nods with a smile and Garrick's entire demeanor changes. "So, I just overreacted then, huh?"

Erik snickers. "Yeah, a little, but I was nervous too," he soothes, just enjoying being close to his husband without the seeming weight of the world on either of their shoulders.

"Well, now we have all mornin' to wait until we hear the results," Garrick says. "Wanna do somethin'?"

"Sure."

Garrick snickers. "Well, what do you wanna do?"

"I don't care," Erik answers with a carefree smile.

"And just like that, we are back on Earth," the dwarf laughs. He steps back, Erik instantly following, to look around the room. "Wanna just relax on the couch and watch the Game through the Gerald's eyes?"

"Absolutely," Erik answers with a smile as he drags his husband to the couch.

*

Erik fell asleep on Garrick's chest not even twenty minutes into the show, not that he stood much of a chance anyway. The dwarf had chuckled when it happened before flagging over the Gerald and having him get a blanket to throw over them.

He watches the show for a little bit longer, enjoying watching the others squirm uncomfortably before turning it off once the Game Master begins to reveal their secret. He was framing it like it was some big scheme, possibly with love magic involved, and Garrick wasn't particularly interested in it without Erik awake to make fun of it with. He is certain that everything the Game Master was about to say, he's heard before.

Sensing a shitshow coming, he casts Silence around them before reading a random book he pulled off the side table. It happens to be The Hobbit and he makes a mental note to either thank Erik or throw the book at him when he wakes up.

He gets just past the first chapter, familiarity with the book allowing him to read quicker, when the door flies open, Philip J. Munson (a traditionally purple tiefling who is currently redder than Erik) storming in with Arliss hot on his heels.

Upon spotting them, Munson somehow becomes a brighter shade of red as he begins to yell something. His jaw is moving too fast for Garrick to try and read his lips. On the other side, Arliss also begins speaking, but the dwarf cannot tell if it is to him or to Munson as the aasimar looks rapidly between them.

He watches it play out for a moment before the rest of the contestants pile into the room, also speaking quickly, hands flying everywhere. It's not until Twist walks over to the smug-looking dwarf that any of them realize that there is a Silence spell active.

"Is this your spell?" she mouths carefully. He nods. "Release the spell. We want to talk." He shakes his head with a grin. Twist's eye twitches. "Why not?" she demands.

Garrick points to the tiefling still happily asleep on his chest. "Sleeping," he mouths.

Arliss and Twist have a stare-off before the human looks back at him. "We will be silent. We just have questions."

Garrick doesn't believe her, but the spell is bound to run out soon so he dismisses it.

"Shh," he says quickly and lowly, "He's asleep."

"Yes, that is precisely the issue," Munson says, getting steadily louder. "That Erik Statton is asleep on your chest!"

Garrick glares, not rising to the bait. "Firstly, it's Erik Whitman, secondly he's sleepin'," he reminds with a raised eyebrow. "So, keep your damn voice down."

"Was sleepin'," Erik gripes as he slowly wakes up, moving just enough to see the people standing around them. "Mornin'," he says with a loopy smile.

"Unbelievable!" Munson roars.

"We should get you tested for potions, both of you," Arliss says, already plotting. "Yes, yes, this has to be the work of spells."

Garrick huffs a laugh. "Yeah, sure."

"It's not like we were friends for a year before even datin'," Erik adds as he sits up and stretches.

"But you guys hate each other," Juniper points out, as she goes to stand with Arliss.

"Yeah, I hate him so much that I married him, uh huh," the tiefling teases.

"Then why fight publicly?" Twist questions.

Garrick shrugs, noting his place in the book before putting it down. "It became our brand on accident and since it kept us safe, we just ran with it," he explains.

The contestants look between each other. "Safe?" Sariya finally prompts.

"Wecland ain't exactly supportive of same-sex relations," Garrick answers. "They're barely okay with interracial marriage."

Erik snickers. "He's nicely sayin' that we didn't say anything because it woulda gotten both of us in deep shit."

"So, you were waiting to come out?" Juniper asks quietly.

"Yeah, more or less," Garrick answers easily.

"I'm sorry, can we circle back to the fact that the two of you -who have publicly fought, nearly daily, for nearly three damn years now- were friends?!" Arliss demands.

"Sure, what about it?" Erik asks with a lazy grin.

Arliss makes a broad, wide-eyed gesture. "How?!"

"Are you asking how we met?" Garrick prompts.

Arliss makes a noise like they are about to pop a blood vessel and Juniper lays a hand on their shoulder. "Yes, how did you meet?" Juniper asks as she tries, in vain, to soothe the aasimar.

"You wanna tell it or should I?" the tiefling asks, looking at his husband.

Garrick smiles softly at him. "It's funnier when you tell it," he reasons.

"True," Erik agrees with a grin before looking at Arliss. "Long or short?"

"Seeing as we have all day, long version, please," they say, tapping their staff to the ground as they plop down on the floor, cross-legged.

"We have chairs- eh, never mind," Erik says before lighting into one of his favorite stories to tell. "Picture this: I am a 20-year-old Wecland University college student with a middle part in the middle of finals working at a bar as the relative youngest bartender they have ever staffed."

"You can work at a bar at 20?" Skog asks, clearly not believing him.

"Wecland law is weird, to serve it you have to be an adult, but can't drink until your brain is done maturin', even if those numbers are different," Garrick explains. "For tieflings that means he can serve it at 18, but can't drink until 21."

"Yeah, it's weird, but not the point," Erik says before continuing with his story. "So, I'm up to my eyes in work, stressed from studying, and in comes these two dwarves, already drunk off their asses." Garrick snickers, clearly having heard this story before. "One of them is too drunk to fuckin' talk and the other one is talkin' faster than I'd ever heard before with the heaviest goddamn Welcand accent I'd ever heard."

"It wasn't that bad," the dwarf tries, but Erik shakes his head.

"You coulda started a fire with how fast you were goin'. Either way, I'm like 'do I need to call a cab?' and he goes 'nah, not for me, I'll be fine, but maybe for my brother here.' Well, alright, simple enough, right? Then I asked for their names."

At this point Garrick chimes in as he drunkenly says, "Oh, I'm Garrick and this is my brother-" he makes a slurred noise that ends with "son".

"So, when he said that, I thought he said fuckin' Dawson. I had no fuckin' clue that the sons of Wecland's most profitable business were sitting across from me, one of which was drunkenly tryin' to flirt with me," Erik laughs. At some point the others had come to stand near Arliss, attentively listening to his story, Juniper and Sariya having sat down.

"'Ey, it worked in the long run," Garrick points out.

The tiefling waves a hand at him. "Shh, not the point."

"And then you became friends after that?" Twist asks.

"No, not exactly. They just kept coming back for weekend drinks," Erik elaborates. "So, of course, I became friendly with them. Tronsan is hilarious when he's tipsy and Garrick would get a little more friendly."

"Can you blame me when the hottest man in Wecland was servin' me some good cheap booze?" the dwarf questions, pointedly ignoring the coos -and retches- from their little crowd, before saying, "And if you're gonna tease me, I gotta get my get back."

"Huh?" Erik questions. "Uh oh."

Garrick smiles at him before looking to the group and asking, "How long do you think it took him to realize who we were?"

"Not this again," Erik groans.

"A month," Skog says.

Twist tsks. "No, he's not that smart. Three."

Garrick laughs as he shakes his head. "You ready for the real answer?" He waits for them to nod before announcing, "It took him over a damn year to figure it out!"

"How is that even possible?" Arliss asks as Twist titters, "Clearly, he's not the brightest."

"First of all, fuck you, Twist," Erik gripes before explaining, "I didn't think a whole lot 'bout it. Why would the very famous playboy sons of Whitman&Smirk come down to my crappy bar?"

"Did it take you that long to figure out Smirk's correct first name?" Skog questions, just as entertained by the story as the girls are, even if he won't admit it.

"No! I figured out his real name when he introduced himself!" Erik snaps, thanking whatever deity blessed him with his red skin which hides his blush.

Munson pipes up for the first time in several minutes. "Did his name not -I don't know- tip you off about their true identities?"

"'Ey, we never hide our identities, he was just too dumb to realize who we were," Garrick teases before Erik's tail flicks across his face in a mock slap.

"Shut up, Garrick," he says with no heat. "I noticed the coincidence, but I didn't really see anything to question, ya know? It's just Garrick and Tronsan. They come downtown for drinks on the weekends after working all week," Erik elaborates with a sheepish shrug. "I just didn't think about it."

"The best part is that he didn't realize it until a week after we began dating when I invited him over to meet my dad and Uncle Smirk," Garrick teases with a grin.

Erik nods. "I saw that big house and I knew I had to marry him," he says with a cheesy grin, receiving a pinch to the leg from the dwarf.

"Okay, but if you guys are happily married why do you publicly fight?" Arliss asks, bringing attention back to the main issue.

The pair look between each other before Garrick tentatively explains, "It was a fluke."

"How do you accidentally make fighting with your husband your whole identity?" Twist asks condescendingly.

"You semi-publicly argue about something that no one has the context for one time and then your PR teams run with it," Erik says flatly.

"You fight about mines, that's common knowledge," Arliss counters.

Erik rolls his eyes. "Yeah, now we do. The first time we were publicly arguin' a nosey journalist overheard us bickerin' about wedding rings, and assumed we were arguing over the mines."

"How could someone mess up that badly?" Juniper asks.

"Because Erik told me that I wasn't allowed to buy him a fancy wedding ring, and so I asked if I could make the fancy wedding ring," the dwarf explains.

"So, I told him that he can't buy expensive materials," Erik continues.

Garrick tilts his head to the side. "But what if I mined the materials?"

"You can't do that, it would cut into our profits," Erik counters. "And that's the part the stupid fuckin' journalist heard."

"He heard Erik say 'our profits' and instead of realizing he was joking about our shared business, he just assumed Erik had his own mining business."

The tiefling nods. "So imagine our shock when the next morning, there's headlines readin' 'Whitman&Smirk trying to keep small businesses down!'" Erik explains tiredly.

"And you didn't try to retract the statement?" Skog questions.

"No, we did," Garrick explains tiredly. "But the public had sunk their fuckin' teeth into it and wouldn't let go."

"So let me make sure I'm understanding this," Arliss says, waving their hand. "Your PR team had you make an entire company for a PR stunt to get profits up?"

Erik nods. "Yeah, basically."

The aasimar makes an exasperated noise. "How did you even pull that off?"

"We was considerin' makin' some sort of currency that would be localized through the entire S.U.," Garrick explains. "So that workers in other sections of the S.U. that work for Whitman&Smirk wouldn't have to wait an extra day for their well-earned paycheck to be converted."

Erik nods before adding, "And I like programmin'. I've been makin' things like False Faces for as long as I've been able to cast spells."

"It was easy enough to make a company off that and make some public scandal about us competin' for mines," the dwarf finishes.

"How do you stomach fighting in public? The two of you seem so sweet to each other," Juniper points out to which the others hum.

Erik snickers as Garrick says, "We don't actually yell when we fight, never have."

"Then how do you fight?" Skog questions.

"Tight-lipped words and not lookin' at each other," Erik says easily. "We also don't fight, like, ever. We talk through our problems like goddamn adults."

"But all you've done is fight while you've been here!" Munson snaps.

"And?" Erik questions.

"How can you possibly argue like that and not mean it?!" Munson howls.

The tiefling and dwarf look at each other with grins before Garrick's becomes pinched with irritation and Erik's becomes smug.

"Oh, suck it up, Mafia, it's one mine," the tiefling says, the perfect picture of a spoiled twenty-something-year-old.

"It was ours first," the dwarf responds sharply.

Erik flicks his tail out to the side. "Cool, now it's mine."

"There's metal down there that we need," the dwarf says hotly, voice steadily raising.

Erik huffs. "Yeah, and there's coins that I need. Go somewhere else."

"We had it first, it's ours by law!"

"Well, now we have it!" Erik snaps smugly.

"You, stupid son of a bitch-" Garrick roars.

The tiefling gets to his feet, leaning over the dwarf. "Don't talk about my mother like that you arms-dealin' bastard!"

"Right, 'cause you're straight as an arrow!" he snaps back getting in Erik's face.

Erik seethes. "Better than you and that damn brother of yours!"

Garrick breaks character laughing as he sits back down, Erik following suit.

"I think Tronsan is straighter than both of us," Erik titters as he sits back down, tail curling around his husband.

"I'd hope so, if he's gay and forgot to tell me, I might have to kill him," Garrick nods before looking back at their audience who is sitting in stunned silence. "It's really easy to ramp it up to ten when it means nothin'."

Erik nods. "We used to jokingly do that all the time anyway."

"What? Get into a screaming match?" Sariya questions, being the first one to actually spit out a question.

Erik ducks his head as he laughs and Garrick nods with a sly grin. "We'd freak out people who knew we were datin' by just screamin' at each other."

"Okay, okay, but what he's leavin' out is people just talk like that in Wecland," Erik explains. "Lots of times, you gotta scream before anyone will be able to hear ya."

"So we'd just start yellin' at each other from across the room, about nothin' in particular and people'd think we was fightin'," Garrick elaborates.

Erik snickers as he shakes his head. "One of Garrick's friends from school was visiting one time, and he-"

"He meant well," Garrick interjects.

"Yeah, he meant well but he still got between us and was trying to body-block me," Erik continues, giving the others the impression that they've had this conversation before.

"Because I was drunk off my ass and yelling from across the room at you to 'go downstairs and get more goddamn wine!'" Garrick counters mimicking himself.

Juniper waves her hand like she's trying to flag down the couple. "I'm sorry, what happened?"

"I was having a get-together with some of my friends from school and we all got pretty drunk, except for Erik who had left earlier that night to let me have a boy's night. After he was home and had checked in on us, and shit, he started to leave, but I called after him to go get some wine. I woulda sent one of the boys after it, but them stairs are slick and-"

"And I won't let Garrick near them if he's tipsy," Erik finishes.

"I almost break my neck one time," the dwarf says with faux annoyance.

Erik looks at him flatly, which only causes the dwarf to smile cheekily. "One time too many."

"I know, I know, but anyway, one of the boys who wasn't from Wecland saw me yellin' at my husband like I was and got between us. Which, honestly, I appreciate. He was gonna defend Erik instead of just letting me abuse him, but it also took a lot of explaining on Erik's end to tell him I wasn't gonna hurt him," Garrick says to finish the story.

"Yeah, he really thought you were an abusive drunk which will never not be funny to me," the tiefling says with a snicker.

"Why?" Sariya asks.

The couple looks between each other.

"Why what?" Erik asks.

Sariya shrugs. "Why did he think you were abusive, I suppose."

"I used to be an angry drunk," Garrick supplies, ducking his head. "Used to get into fights a lot."

"You are still an angry drunk who fights a lot," Erik clarifies.

"So then why are you so certain he means you no harm when he is drunk?" Skog questions.

Garrick flashes him a pleading look, "Erik, you don't have to-"

"Oh, yes, I do, Mafia," the tiefling says over him. "We were out drinking one night and I dropped my empty beer bottle, a glass one mind you, and I knelt down and picked it up, handing it to Garrick before I started to get up. Garrick looked at the bottle, looked at me, looked at the bottle, and then tapped me in the head with it. Now, what he didn't know was the bottle was cracked as hell from falling." Garrick makes a grumbling noise and Erik gives him a shit eating grin. "And when he tapped me in the head with it-"

"It shattered," Twist finishes, looking at Garrick with amusement as he gets steadily redder.

"Oh just wait, it gets so much better," the tiefling assures. "Because after he broke the bottle over my head, his drunk ass thought he hit me hard with a glass bottle, and even though I was laughing, he thought he hurt me and spent the next hour trying to convince a cop to arrest him for domestic abuse."

"Did it work?" Juniper asks, leaning forward like they were a group of teenage girls having a sleepover and not eight billionaires on a game show.

"'Did it work?'" Erik echoes with a laugh. "Of course it fucking didn't! He was clearly drunk, I was fine, and the officer literally watched it happen."

"I did spend the night in a cell," Garrick mutters.

Erik laughs. "Yeah because it was the only way to get you to stop whinin'."

"I wasn't whinin'!" Garrick corrects in a tone that sounds suspiciously like whining to the onlookers.

"Cryin' then," Erik says smugly, watching Garrick walk right into his trap as the dwarf snaps back, "I was not cryin'!"

"And that's why I got records." Before the dwarf can stop his husband, Erik has pulled out a photo of that night. It depicts a clearly drunk Garrick desolately laying in an empty cell in the background of the photo while a more sober Erik leans against the bars of the cell with its door wide open next to him. Erik wears a tired but amused smile while Garrick has clearly been crying.

"Did you have to show them that photo?" the dwarf grumbles as the other contestants look at it, some snickering at the display.

"Yep," his husband answers smugly. "I'd get it framed and put it on the mantle if you'd let me."

"No," Garrick responds quickly.

"Why the fuck not?"

"It's an awful photo."

"It's an amazing photo, 'scuse you."

"It's only nice because you are in it."

"Exactly, so let me put it on the mantle."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Alright," Arliss interrupts as the couple gets closer to each other's faces. Their "argument" had no heat in it, but the aasimar still doesn't care to listen to it. "I believe it is time for everyone to give the two of you some well deserved alone time." Twist looks at Arliss with annoyance, clearly enjoying watching the couple's back and forth, but the rest of the contestants give some form of acknowledgement before making their way to the door.

Juniper is the last to leave, hovering in the door, clearly wanting to say something, but struggling to find the confidence.

The couple looks at each other before Erik finally says, "Need somethin', toots?"

She startles slightly as she looks at them. She gives them a smile, but it's sad and neither of the pair can parce why. "I'm glad you two are public now." She swallows and suddenly seems so much older than she is. "Maybe you'll give others the courage to follow in your footsteps." Before either of them can question her, she is out the door.

Garrick turns to the tiefling. "That was weird, right?"

Erik nods. "Maybe she's just being optimistic?"

"Probably, 'cause she's gotta be straight as an arrow."