It wasn’t that he’d meant to not take Ari’s advice, it was just that he had gotten busy at work. And suddenly it was time to go, and he’d had to pick up food, and by the time all of that had been done, there really just hadn’t been time to leave the city real quick to let Pokey run free. So, when he’d been walking through the city to get to Ari’s, he’d tried to talk to Pokey.
Pokey had been less than impressed, but had seemed interested in meeting what he referred to as Drake’s other woman, which Ari was most adamantly not.
He sighed, enjoying the sudden quiet as he knocked on the door. Maybe Pokey was going to take pity on him.
To say that Ari looked disheveled upon opening the door would be putting it mildly. She’d managed through sheer willpower to get herself dressed and out of Aspel’s apartment earlier despite the pounding of her head, but whatever they had been drinking had been rather powerful stuff -- and even with her later visit to the apothecary, she had needed a nap which had lasted most of the day. She’d awakened to the knock on the door, quickly pulled on and belted her robe, and was attempting to push her hair out of her face even as she greeted Drake with what was likely to be a rather sleepy smile, pressing herself up against him for a moment to give him a kiss. “Now here’s a pleasant sight first thing in the… evening.”
All right, so she was still waking up. Maybe that was for the best -- she’d find less reason to dwell on the things they’d discussed a week ago (or, for that matter, the note that Aspel would no doubt return home to find any minute now) if she was still trying to clear the cobwebs.
Drake laughed and kissed the top of her nose, ignoring the now very pointed silence in his head. “Well, it seems like you slept the day away. Again. I have brought food and sustenance and things.” The bag of food was held up as an offering. “So you, darling, should eat.”
He slid around her and into the apartment, ignoring the clutter. It was always strange to him how people could stand vast amounts of stuff surrounding them. The simpler, the better. At least that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about - he may love Ari, but he definitely didn’t want to move in with her.
“Any plans for tonight?” he asked, settling on the couch.
“I had a very good reason,” she said. One that she intended to not talk about right now. “As for plans…”
The bag of food, while appreciated, was temporarily set aside upon the coffee table, leaving her free to settle on the couch, stretching her legs across his lap and leaning back into the cushions. (The best thing seemed to be to pretend at normalcy; if it did not come naturally, well, she was a skilled actress.) “My plans,” she said, “involved hoping for a knock on the door from a good-looking man bearing food and willing to entertain me. I would say these plans are going rather well so far.”
“I see how it is. I’m just here to entertain you. I’m crying.” Drake rolled his eyes and slid his hands up her legs, stopping to tickle the back of her knee. “Is that all that you want from me, darling? Entertainment and food?” He grinned. “Because I’m pretty sure I can entertain you by singing. I can totally sing for you.”
“Yes, you’re so sad.” She kicked her leg out slightly at the tickle and gave him a Look. “Don’t worry, I can soothe your sorrows. Though not if you sing -- if you sing, someone is going to have to soothe my sorrows.”
The monk laughed. “I’m sure that my lilting voice will be more than enough to soothe what ails you, m’lady. After all, I have the loveliest voice in all of Emillion.” It really was a good thing that she’d never take him up on the singing - anyone who knew Drake knew that he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket to save his life. A long time ago, that might have bothered him, but not anymore. There were too many other things to worry about.
This one, Pokey started and Drake gave him the mental equivalent of a glare.
“Lilting,” she repeated with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “You’ll do better with your hands than your vocal cords I think, when it comes to entertaining me -- as they say, do what you’re best at.” She fluttered her lashes at him, then added, “But if you desire a tickle war, sir, I must warn you, you will lose spectacularly. I cheat.”
“I could totally take you down, Chiaro,” he said, mock-seriously. “I’ve even come prepared.” He held up a little vial. “I’ll put you to sleep first. You won’t get to draw swirly mustaches on me this time.”
She gasped in mock outrage. “Sir! Are you proposing to drug me?” And never mind that she’d knocked him senseless on his very nice behind and drawn on him in lipstick that one time -- in her world, the rules favored her.
Naturally.
With a grin, she shifted her legs so that she could crawl into his lap instead, and held out her hand. “Give me the vial, Drakey,” she crooned. “I’m much more fun when I’m awake.”
“Nope.” The vial was tucked back into his waistband and he stuck out his tongue. “Mine.” His hands, however, moved to settle at her waist, fingers tucking into the sash of her robe. “But maybe I can be convinced.”
“Hmmmmmmm….” she drawled before her hands went (predictably) for the waistband.
They could both enjoy the process, really.
Drake laughed as her hands slid into his trousers, but his enjoyment was short lived. It seems she is ready for you to impregnate her. Drake stilled.
You are a very strange hume, mortal. Both of your women --
They’re not my women!
Have shown their willingness. I must conclude you are impotent. Are you unable to sire children, mortal?
Drake pushed Ari’s hands away and removed her from his lap. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve gotta go.”
The change was so abrupt that she nearly let him go -- but at the last minute she grasped his tunic, fisting her hand around the fabric tightly and giving him a completely bewildered look. “What…?”
“It’s nothing,” he lied. He really was a terrible liar. “I just remembered… something I have… to do. I’ll see you later.”
Unfortunately, because he was a terrible liar, she didn’t buy it for a moment. “What have I told you about lying to me?” she demanded. “You’re doing it again.” And she could see something like panic in his eyes as they flicked to her half-open robe and then back to her face. “What is going on?” Really, she couldn’t take much more of these troubles; after her difficult evening with Aspel, she’d counted on Drake to soothe her, not the opposite.
If you are not impotent, then you are a fool.
Drake shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he tried, but he knew that it wasn’t going to fly, so he sighed and pointed to his head. “He won’t shut up.”
She gave him a mildly puzzled look and said, “What about?” In the back of her mind, Ifrit let out a chuckle (the sort that generally came at her expense). “We’re busy.” Then, directly to the cactuar, who she knew could hear her: “He’s busy. It isn’t as though you can’t talk to him later.”
Your optimism is amusing, hume child.
Be quiet. I’m busy, too.
As you wish.
At the very least, he obeyed, though she had to wonder if she ought to have asked him just what had amused him so.
She is very forthright. You will have strong children.
“For Faram’s sake,” he hissed, “I’m not having any children!”
Ari blinked. Then again. Finally, she managed to say, “I’m sorry, what?”
Drake growled in frustration. “He wants me to have kids. Lots of them. He won’t shut up about it whenever I’m with Aspel, so I’ve been avoiding Aspel. And now he won’t shut up about it around you, and I’m not doing anything with him watching.”
“He… what? What?” She thought of her taunting of Flynn, suddenly, which seemed not quite so funny anymore. “Well that’s… none of his business, now is it?” She stood from the couch in one quick, determined motion, already undoing the knot holding her robe together; she let it fall over the back of a chair as she headed back towards her closet and disappeared into it. “Give me five minutes to get dressed,” she called out. “Don’t you dare go anywhere. We’re going for a walk.”
“I think I’m just going to go home,” he called after her. There had to be a way to shut Pokey up. He’d never had problems with relationships before (he’d also never called them relationships, and since Aspel still wasn’t talking to him, maybe labeling whatever it was they had was a bit stupid and man did he need to talk to her), but it seemed like Pokey just wanted to make sure Drake was alone and miserable.
Well, maybe that wasn’t what Pokey wanted, but that was what was going to happen if he didn’t butt out.
Sometimes, Drake wished he drank.
Ari poked her head out of the closet, now wearing a tunic (but no pants to speak of). “Don’t you dare,” she said. “I’m going to be very cross if you do. You don’t like it when I’m cross.”
And she’d told him, hadn’t she, that he had to show the cactus who was in charge? Clearly it was selflessness that motivated her to solve this issue. (Well, not only selflessness, perhaps, but she could justify it.)
Drake sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Fortunately, Ari emerged from the closet fully dressed moments later, before he could change his mind. As she walked past him, she planted a breezy kiss on his cheek and said, “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll make you feel better.”
And in return, he’d make her feel better, too.
“We’ll laugh about it later,” she promised as she began the process of tugging on her boots. She had no doubt they would, just as she had no doubt that when she saw the nosy cactuar again -- and that would be very soon indeed -- she’d have a few choice words for him.
There were really getting to be too many parties interested in her personal life. It was complicated enough without giant cactuars bent on procreation.
Fetching her keys, she looped her arm through Drake’s and pulled him towards the door. “Let’s go clear your head.”
And then, hopefully, get back to the evening’s initial plans.