#eylanihya

She doesn’t blink when she pushes it against her head, and she doesn’t make a peep when Nihya pulls the hammer back.

She doesn’t even glare, just looking up into those eyes she’d fallen in love with so long ago and smiling that irritating little half-smile of hers.

“Yes, dear? What is it?” She asks, leaning back in her chair, and Nihya’s hand shakes, just a bit.

“I,,, I’ve been doing some thinking.” Nihya says, a barely-perceptible quaver in her voice giving away her nerves. “And the way I see it, I don’t need you anymore.”

Eyla raises an eyebrow, at that, and Nihya swallows.

“You... you do your work through proxies and dead drops. Always have. And we’re both half-elvish, even people who think they know you won’t know the difference.”“I see.” Eyla says, tilting her head slightly, her grin widening as Nihya’s gun follows her movement. “You could impersonate me, sure... Let the legend of the Traitorous Spy die, retire quietly...” She leans forward suddenly, and Nihya’s gun moves smoothly back, never giving her space. “But why would you bother?”

“You...” Nihya shakes her head, glaring. “You keep getting in my way. The bodyguard, and your machinations, and...”

She pauses, and Eyla smiles.

“And being unable to get me out of your head isn’t helping, is it?”

Nihya flinches, as viciously as if she’d pulled a knife on her, and she gives a rough shake of her head. “Shut up! Just... be quiet, for Bahumat’s sake. Do you have any idea how close I am to killing you?”

Eyla shakes her head, still smiling warmly.

“Nihya, love...” She starts, leaning forward. The gun doesn’t move this time, but she doesn’t care, just gently taking hold of Nihya’s hand and kissing between her knuckles. “I’m acutely aware of how much you want to pull that trigger.”Nihya’s hand shakes in hers, and she gently tugs at it, pulling Nihya into her lap and pressing a soft kiss to her neck, a hand reaching up to gently rest on the fastenings of her prosthetic.

Nihya nods, near imperceptibly, and Eyla detaches it, laying the heavy metal arm on the ground and gently massaging Nihya’s shoulder.

“We can’t.” Nihya says, pulling back... and Eyla shakes her head. 

“One kiss, for old time’s sake?” She whispers, leaning in... and Nihya gives in, nearly bowling them both over with how hard, how hungrily she kisses her.

And they don’t stop at one... not that either of them had really expected to.

/

Eventually, Nihya makes her way back to the bar, visibly refreshed, if a bit disheveled.

Ezri gives her a quizzical look at the changed clothes, but says nothing, and Gladness just wordlessly sets out some food for her.

In the morning, she was just thankful that no one had seemed to notice...

But then she looked in the mirror and finally spotted the fruits of Eyla’s labor all over her neck, she let out a stream of curses loud enough to wake everyone in the rung.