Satisfaction Guaranteed

by Samantha M. Derr

  "I think you need a new counsellor."

  "Yeah. Not sure it'll solve anything. I've heard the same stories from other drifters. But I'm not seeing my old counsellor anymore." Not when Hennen had better answers to my questions than Mister Wolvet ever had.

  Hennen sighed as something beeped. "I have to go," he said, and rose. "I'll let you know what the captain says, and I'll see you Friday. You're still coming over this weekend, right?"

  "Yes." Definitely. I'd have to ask someone to feed Lois, though. I'd walked to the flat to feed her twice, last time, and I wasn't going to do that again. I couldn't ask my neighbours, and the only one of my family that might be willing without putting me through an interrogation was Mouran. Not that she wouldn't ask questions, but answering hers wasn't really all that bad. Besides, Lois had stayed with her before... once.

  Hennen stopped in front of me and raised his hand. I grabbed it and kissed his palm. Hennen smiled and pulled me to him for a kiss. His lips were warm against mine, and he tasted of his favourite tea. I licked my lips when he let me go, and let him lead me out of his office.

  *~*~*

  Friday evening I found myself ringing Mouran's doorbell, violin case strapped to my back, cat carrier in hand, and Lois hissing inside it. I felt a bit silly, carrying my violin case. Even on the way here I wondered if I should leave it at Mouran's instead. But... I wanted to try. Even if I could only play for a minute, I wanted to share it with Hennen.

  Mouran opened and gawked at me before narrowing her eyes at the cat carrier. "Did you get thrown out of your flat?" she asked.

  What? "No! Why would you think that?"

  "What else are you doing here with your cat?" She grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. "And your violin case?"

  I bit my lip. "Asking if you could watch her for the weekend? I'm staying..." I really should have thought about this more before opening my mouth. I swallowed. "I'm staying at a friend's for the weekend." What else could I call Hennen? It was way too early to call him boyfriend, though I liked the sound of it.

  Her eyes narrowed even more. "Is he allergic to cats?"

  "No. Not that I know, anyway."

  "So, why aren't you taking Lois with you?"

  I opened my mouth, and closed it again. I hadn't even considered taking Lois with me.

  "Right. Well, come on in."

  I followed Mouran into the living room. "Where are the kids?"

  "Zolen took them to the park after lunch so I could sleep. I had an emergency during the night."

  "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

  "Nah. I've been up for an hour, at least. You won't believe how refreshing it is to fold the laundry without the kids interfering."

  I laughed. "About as refreshing as it is without a cat trying to build nests in the laundry basket."

  "Don't let her out of the carrier until I've cleared the laundry, then. I'm not doing this twice."

  Lois complained loudly when I put the carrier down but didn't open the door, and kept right on complaining until Mouran took the basket upstairs. When I finally let Lois out, she hissed at me as she passed me and curled herself around Mouran's legs. It wasn't fair, since Mouran had been the one to insist I keep Lois in the carrier, but I shrugged as Mouran laughed at me.

  "So, you've never voluntarily spent more than a night away from your flat. Tell me about this friend."

  "I met him in the park." Wasn't the best introduction, but it was out of my mouth before I thought about it.

  Mouran sputtered.

  "That time, at least. He's been coming to the light shop for years, every second Thursday," I amended. "He's a coroner."

  As expected Mouran fired question after question at me—about Hennen, never about the violin—and to my surprise I didn't mind answering any of them. The only thing I left out was my possible change of jobs. Mostly because I hadn't heard a single word from Hennen since Tuesday. Instead of "He loves me, he loves me not" I'd been playing a game of "Will they say yes? Will they say no?" as I charged pebbles. Not to mention spending every break—and Roni forced me to take more breaks than normal, after Monday's disaster—thinking about the job, about working with Hennen. And the longer it took, the less likely it seemed I'd get the job. Hennen might not have a problem working with a drifter, let alone a dreaded ninth, but maybe his boss did. So many wanted nothing to do with drifters.

  "You look different, you know." Mouran said when it was time for me to go. "Happier."

  I smiled. I was. "It's nice to have someone who doesn't judge me by my talents."

  Mouran hugged me and patted my violin case. "Play him something sexy."

  I stood gaping like a fish as she winked and closed the door before I could react. But as I walked away I smiled, and I was still smiling when I reached the police station.

  Hennen was in the hall when I opened the door, holding a thick file as he talked to a cop. They seemed intent on their conversation, heads bent together, and I stayed near the door, waiting for them to finish. Once or twice the cop glanced my way. His smile seemed friendly enough, though his expression was stern. Were they talking about me? Could this be the captain Hennen had been mentioning? The one who decided whether or not I could be Hennen's assistant?

  The thought made me nervous, and I tried hard not to fidget while I waited. Luckily, their conversation didn't last long, and soon enough, Hennen came to me while the cop disappeared into a corridor. Leaning on his cane—his bag clinging awkwardly against it—Hennen reached out, trailing his hand up my shoulder until he could brush it against my cheek. "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

  "No problem. Want me to carry your bag?"

  Hennen smiled and hefted it off his shoulder. "Thank you. Though you won't have to carry it far, there's a cart waiting for us."

  "Is that a work thing?" I asked as I pushed the door open and led Hennen outside.

  "The carts? Yes. But only if one of the carts is free. If they're all out on calls, I have to arrange my own transport."

  The driver was the same one who'd driven us the week before. And after a cheerful greeting, I sat back and listened to the two of them talk until we reached Hennen's house. The lights were on this time, and the dinner table had been set for us, but as Hennen pushed me against the wall next to the door, stood on his toes, and kissed me, I forgot all about dinner... until my violin case pressed painfully into my back. I held Hennen back and took it off. I placed both my case and Hennen's bag safely out of the way before returning to what we were doing. As he pushed me back against the wall, I wrapped my hands around him and kissed him. He tasted of tea and honey, and I wanted more of him. I turned us around, restraining Hennen against the wall with my hips. Hennen moaned into my mouth and buried both his hands into my hair as he deepened the kiss. Who cared about dinner?

  I grabbed him around his waist and carried him toward his giant, plush sofa. I lowered myself on top of Hennen and renewed our kiss before undoing his clothes and kissing a way down his throat and chest. His trousers were stiff and tight and tricky to get off, but I didn't need them all the way down. His cock rose proudly as I opened the buttons and pushed the fabric out of the way. Hennen raised his hips, but I pushed him down again and teased him with my tongue. He stilled and pressed his head deeper into the seat.

  "More," he asked, demanded in his deep voice, and I complied.

  I teased, licked, kissed, bit, until he could no longer form words, and only then did I take him into my mouth. He shuddered beneath my touch and came with a throaty groan. I swallowed and kept him in my mouth until he gently pushed me away.

  "I could get used to that," he said as he hoisted himself up.

  So could I, but it was too soon for thoughts like that. I wanted it, though. To come home with him after work, help him work off his frustration, his need, only to repeat it after dinner. It sounded like heaven. Hennen reached for my trousers, but I shook my head, surprising myself by smiling and telling him, "I can wait."

  "You don't have to," he offered.


  I knew, but I felt strangely invigorated. Turned on, but... not needy and I sort of enjoyed the anticipation. "I want to." We still had all weekend, after all.

  *~*~*

  The next day, after breakfast, a very late breakfast, Hennen showed me some papers. A contract for a trial period of a month. "The captain contacted Mistress Volker, and if after a month you don't want to stay, she'll take you back at the light shop. In effect, she said you can return any time you want. She'll always have a job for you."

  "I'll like it," I said as I grabbed the papers, but it was sweet of Roni to offer. "Where do I sign?"

  Hennen laughed, but he sounded serious when he said, "I know you're eager, but you need to read every page before you sign."

  I bit my lip and refrained from admitting I'd only skimmed the contracts I'd had to sign so far. But I read all the pages, from the job description to the benefits. The salary they were going to pay me made me stop and blink. It was more than what I got at the light shop. That couldn't be right, could it? How could using less energy gain me more salary?

  "What is it?" Hennen asked.

  "Is this really what they're going to pay me?" I asked, pointing at the numbers and reading the amount aloud at the same time.

  "I'm not completely up to date on the exact numbers. Does it mention a level as well?"

  I scanned the page. "Level two."

  Hennen nodded. "The apprentices are rated level one when they assist me. But you're not an apprentice, so, level two sounds about right. Remember, you won't be working regular hours, and they'll pay you double if we're called out between midnight and six."

  That sounded logical enough. Mouran was paid double for working nights as well. As I read the remaining pages, I couldn't help but think about what I'd do with that extra money. Lois could do with a nice scratching post, and... I shook my head. Plenty of time to think about all that later. I rubbed my hands and pressed my thumb on the bottom of the last page. A print of my thumb appeared on the paper with my name next to it. I smiled. This was it. A new job.

  And then it hit me. "My family is going to be knocking on my door as soon as they find out. Pop still doesn't like that I left the family business."

  "You can stay here."

  Silence enveloped us as I let the words sink in. I half expected Hennen to take them back, to explain, but he said nothing. He merely smiled at me. "I..."

  "It's too soon, I know," Hennen said. "But I'm not taking it back. Too soon, too fast. I don't care. I want you here."

  And still he smiled. And I smiled back, even though he couldn't see it. I leaned over and brushed my lips against his. "I like that word. Want," I whispered. "I like it a lot, coming from you."

  "I want you here," Hennen repeated. "And not just for the weekend."

  "Let's see how you like my cat, first," I burst out. I didn't want to make promises, no matter how wonderful it sounded, and how much I liked being wanted. I could, however, do something else for Hennen. I gave him a quick kiss and got up to retrieve my violin case.

  "Bring her over next weekend."

  "I will," I said as I unpacked my violin as quietly as I could. I wanted this to be a surprise for Hennen. As I readied myself, my trembling hands had nothing to do with tapping into my reserve. I swallowed against my nerves as I placed my violin on my shoulder and leaned my chin on the support. All I could hope was that I didn't disappoint, and that my energy would last long enough.

  As I glanced at Hennen, still sitting at the dining table, he frowned, but as soon as I started playing, his eyes widened and his mouth flew open. My energy vibrated through me as I played an upbeat little melody. I closed my eyes and couldn't help but smile. I hadn't played in front of an audience for so long. Though, honestly, I only ever dared play in front of my aunt and my sister. They were the only ones not looking at me like they were craving for more when I stopped playing. The song wasn't done when I ended it, but I had to stop when my ears started ringing, another way to tell my energy was running low, if I was paying attention, that was.

  My hands trembled, and my knees felt like pudding as I lowered my violin to my side. I'd played longer than I ever had before, but I still couldn't bear to open my eyes to see what Hennen thought of my performance. Something brushed my cheek, fingers, a thumb, warm and gentle. Next thing I knew, his arms were wrapped around me and his cheek rested against mine as he whispered into my ear how beautifully I'd played.

  I let out a shaky breath and leaned my chin on his shoulder. I wanted to tell him that this was all I had—a couple of minutes on a good day—but then he thanked me for playing for him, for sharing my talent with him, and I could barely breathe. No one had ever thanked me before.

  We stood glued together like that for a long time, until my knees buckled, and Hennen was the only reason I didn't fall to the floor. He helped my shaking body toward the sofa and let me sink down on it. I was so tired, and the sofa so inviting. Hennen whispered something that I couldn't understand, but it didn't matter what he was saying. All that mattered was that he'd thanked me, that he wanted me in his house, and that I was looking forward to starting my new job on Monday.

  STABLEBOY

  Leona Carver

  Stableboys led a good life for the most part. Nic really couldn't complain. Much. Though, when an adventure party rode into his stable yard a mere thumb-width before sunset, he thought he might make an exception.

  "Here, boy." A muscular mountain of a warrior bestride an even greater landmark of a beast tossed the reins down, catching Nic in the face. "This one needs a watchful eye and a quick step. Don't let her bite or she'll never let go."

  Nic gaped up at man and dapple grey mare both, his stomach sinking. The horse didn't need a stable; she needed an armoury. On the battle field she probably counted as a siege engine. She stood nineteen hands at the shoulder, easily towering over Nic's head. As he quivered, his hands wanting nothing more than to drop the reins like hot coals, she turned her head and glared at him with a baleful, white-rimmed eye. That eye had seen men die. From trampling. Under her huge, sharpened hooves.

  The warrior didn't seem to notice Nic's dismay. He swung down from his red-blooded siege engine and swaggered unhurriedly toward the rest of his party. A thin man in a cleric's robes slumped atop his mount, just one more saddlebag among many on a shrivelled nag—Nic mentally sighed in relief; that one would be easy to care for. A rare Amazon woman in her traditional garb of very little rode a spry, golden jungle beast, as much antelope as horse. Their last companion, a woman sheathed head to foot in leather, rode a coal black stallion. Nic counted them and steeled himself for a full night's work, starting with the battle mare.

  He grudgingly attempted to tug her head toward the stable door, clicking hopefully. She responded with her huge yellow teeth and he leapt back to avoid losing an arm.

  "Quit messing around, boy," the inn's owner bellowed across the yard. Quietly, he added, "My deepest apologies, sir. The boy is an idiot. A pity hire."

  Their amused stares burned between Nic's shoulder blades, igniting an embarrassed flush. With renewed determination, he faced the horse: His personal Bull of Atredes, the favoured mount of the patron god of headaches, and a difficult battle faced by at least a dozen mythical heroes. Much like the bull itself and Atredes' maligned demesne, overcoming her required equal parts gentility, trickery, and obstinacy.

  He grasped her rein and, when she made to snap at him again, offered up a palm of oats. Her eye rolled, but she lipped it up instead of snapping his hand off. Before she could change her mind, he canted a hip to show her the pouch at his hip, swollen with a feast of equine delights. At his next tug and click, she practically lunged toward him, and the cruel chuckles of the innkeeper died away.

  She chased him into their largest and sturdiest stall, nipped at his leg when he scrambled over one of the walls, and kicked at the heavy boards with an angry hoof when she realized he had locked her in. Her furious snorts and whinnies sounded more bovine than equine, st
rengthening her resemblance to Atredes' vicious mount.

  "I'll be back, Bull," he called over his shoulder as he darted back to the yard, resolutely ignoring the throb in his thigh. He would have tooth-shaped bruises come morning.

  The cleric's nag followed slowly, exaggeratedly dragging her hooves and hanging her head. "You're a sharp one," he murmured, watching her ears swivel. "As wise as your master, I'm sure. I think I will call you... Deacon."

  He tugged and tempted her with his oats, to little effect, until they passed into the building and its warmth surrounded them. Then she pulled ahead. He let her make her way into one of the waiting stalls, content to let her choose her own place to bed down.

  The Amazon brought her own mount in. Her obsidian eyes flicked over Nic and dismissed him as she passed him in the aisle. "Fresh hay, clean water," she said without turning her proud face.

  "Straight away, madam," Nic replied, automatically bowing although she wasn't looking at him. "Once your companions' horses are inside."

  She didn't respond. However, as Nic didn't immediately find himself bleeding from a grievous Amazonian wound, she accepted his offer.

  That one is... Daffodil, he decided, mostly out of spite for the no doubt warlike, but coddled, animal.

  When he trotted back into the yard, the sun had sunk behind the inn's peak. He blinked into the purple twilight and seething shadows, unable to find the last traveller and her black horse. Then something moved, close enough to feel the huff of a breath, and he startled violently sideways.

  "Sorry," murmured a husky female voice. "I forget. Most eyes cannot see us when we stand still."

  The last rider melted out of the shadows by the stable wall. The lamplight streaming through the door picked out ruddy highlights in her black, sleekly tied hair. Her skin glowed like moonlight, marking her as a northerner, but her eyes were warm brown, a hue more common in the south. She held her stallion's rein in a gloved hand and passed it into Nic's palm.

  "Treat Ash with respect and he will do the same for you," she said, forming a weary smile. That close, Nic could see the signs of a recent fight in the swelling of her lower lip, an abrasion on her cheek, and a darkening bruise under her eye. Not unusual in the parties that tended to frequent the inn, but unfortunate on such a lovely visage.