Without You it's a Waste of Time

Metztli sat on the porch of the guard cabin, reading over a dirty scrap of parchment. She rested her head in one hand, massaging her forehead while trying to puzzle out impossible farmer handwriting. "Ber... Bert... Bertha? Is this about a damn chicken?" She threw the paper on the ground in frustration and leaned back in the chair. The sky was grey and dreary, and a light drizzle pattered on the roof. It had been a long week rife with bandit attacks, but the town had had a good victory a few nights before, and her scouts in the field reported no new movements. Finally, she had time to look at her letters, but they all seemed like pointless drivel.

"What a waste of time," she growled to herself, leaning back and closing her eyes. Hearing the complaints of the rabble was not something she had encountered in her previous position and she was tired of it.

There was a scrape, a squeak, and a shuffle beneath her.  With a puff of dust and cobwebs, Filippa stuck her head out from underneath and peered out at the edge of the porch.
"Ees somebody missing a chicken?  I can find a chicken, easy," she said as she clambered up and brushed off her clothes.  With a clip and a clop, the gypsy girl walked over to Metztli and held out a bag.
"1 silver, 7 copper, three quills, and a button.  Dat's what's been living under dis porch, een case you were wondering."

Metztli opened an eye and cocked an eyebrow. "How long have you been under there?" She took the bag from Filippa. "Is this a common pastime for you? Porch diving?" She grimaced at her, but felt a grin crawling up her throat. Even covered in filth she was cute. "Really living up to the name 'dirty gypsy,' don't you think?" The grin found its way out and quirked the corner of her lips. One of these days, the jokes will be too much, I fear.

"As for the chicken, I honestly can't tell what's wrong with it. Nor do I particularly care." She opened the bag and looked in. "I suppose we can save this for the Guard funds, maybe we can buy a round of drinks for the guardsmen or something."

Filippa sat herself down crosslegged beside the chair, pulled off a boot, and watched the sand and stones drain out, back between the cracks of the porch where they belonged.
"Oh I dunno, I've been down der for what- maybe half an hour?  Its not exactly a hobby, but waste not want not, you know?  And besides, nussing a little soap an water can't fix."  She refixed her shoe and moved on to the next.
"You seemed busy, so I didn't want to bosser you.  But I guess eet is too late for dat now."  She looked up only to find Metztli's eyes searching in the bag.  With a sigh, she let her eyes fall back down to her hands- they were pretty dirty, now that she looked- and promptly sat on them.
"I'm sure dat Kaya would appreciate it." She paused, and then: "I wonder how expensive chicken medicine ees."

Metztli scoffed. "Chicken medicine? Even if animal care was in my list of duties, I doubt I'd spring to save a chicken. Just eat the damn thing." Of all the things... she really does care so much. "Anyway I can't even tell if it's a chicken or a cow being described in that letter, the handwriting is worse than Pry's." She cast an appraising look over Filippa's dusty, cobwebbed hair. What a mess. She reached out and brushed some of the dirt off - that was innocuous enough for the front porch, right? Just keeping her guard looking clean and put together, nobody would care about that, surely.

Filippa leaned back towards the hand that pet her.  "But if you eat the chicken, then you have no eggs.  Or if you eat a cow, you have no milk- seems pretty serious eef you ask me."  She looked up, hoping to actually get a glance back, and said, "You know, you lose the same number of strings from being killed by a demon and from starving.  Dey are both scary."

Metztli met her eye for a moment and looked away, blushing slightly. It was strange to meet someone's eyes happily rather than in a threatening manner. She brushed her fingers deeper into Filippa's soft hair, relaxing a bit, shoulders dropping from their tense state, and smiled. "That's why we have subsidies and organizations to provide food to those in need. And that's what the chicken is for."

She took another look around, watching for any prying eyes. Seeing none, she relaxed more, scratching Filippa's scalp gently. "In any case, I don't think any of our surrounding farms are in danger of starving, what with the commerce brought in by Sala's road." She traced her gaze along Filippa's jawline, marvelling at how delicate it was. She just wanted to run a finger down it, but that would be much too forward.

Filippa didn't respond; it wasn't worth asking Metztli if she'd ever gone hungry before, and the flow of her fingers in her hair was too nice to risk any hard feelings.  So she sat and sighed for a bit- it had been so long since anyone had done something so nice and soothing.  An eternity, really.  She closed her eye and just listened to the quiet- the creaking of trees, the whistle of birds in an empty wood, the scritch scratch of the fingers that ran through her hair.  
She hesitated to open her mouth and spoil the silence, but after a minute she spoke.
"I like eet when you actually look at me, you know.  I know you said that, for you, as a psychic, it's rude, but for me, well, eet makes me nervous when you don't look.  Like you don't like what you see."
Filippa reached up and softly pulled her hand from her head.  She began to rub her palm gently, following the lines on her hand, one finally as small as her own.

Metztli felt heat rush to her face as she flushed in embarrassment. She caught Filippa's eye, and hurriedly looked down, nervous and tense again, but caught herself and forced the eye contact. "Filippa, you're beautiful. I could look at you all day." She held the eye contact, letting her nerves wash through her. That bright brown eye, brighter than hers, filled with trust, unlike most of the eyes she looked at. The palm stroking was sending tingles up her neck, and she slowly closed her fingers gently around Filippa's.

"I just... I'm not used to making eye contact. It's so dangerous." She thought back to the fights she had been in, even just recently, when accidental eye contact had almost killed her. Or when a smart bandit had averted his gaze as she attacked him. "It's like giving out your name too freely, I guess." She grinned nervously. "Or saying 'thank you' to everyone." I won't tell her the relief I feel every time she says "you're welcome" instead of something else. "I'll try to be better. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize," said Filippa quietly. "I'm glad to know you don't think I'm, well, terrible to look at. You know, with this and all." She pointed to her eye patch.
This time it was Filippa who broke the contact. She looked down to her feet, blushing herself. Staring at her toes sitting beside a chair, she felt so small.
'I'm not the one that should be doing this,' she thought to herself. 'This is Ze's line of work. How in the world is me telling her about my issues going to help get her to like me, let alone us?' She felt the warm hand in her own and tensed. It felt so nice, too nice, to have some peace and quiet with someone who wasn't her family. This shouldn't be this difficult.
Filippa looked back up- how to turn this around? Back to about them, not her own weird insecurities. Feelings- talking about feelings is always seductive, right?
"I just can't tell how you are feeling if I can't look at your eyes," she said.
That was good. Eyes are always good to talk about.

Metztli frowned. "First of all, your eye patch hardly detracts from you. Second, usually when I am projecting my emotions via eye contact, it's not the best of times for the receiver." Great, she thinks I'm hard to read. Maybe I don't want her to deal with the anger or apathy I feel at any given moment. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the annoyance and embarrassment. No need to get cross with Filippa, she had a different upbringing, a different life. She was just used to different things.

She looked around again, and seeing nobody, slid off the chair to sit on the floor next to Filippa, not letting go of her hand. She ducked her head down to try to make eye contact again. Reassurances did work better eye to eye, not from some higher position.

Filippa could do nothing but return a sheepish smile and stare. It was just so bizarre- Metztli, a grumpy old cat of a person, slinking down to try to catch her eye? There was something charming about the whole thing, something so incongruous that Filippa couldn't help but giggle.
"Well hopefully I will project only nice and soothing things your way with my eyes, okay? It's just so silly, you are the one avoiding it when I am the one clearly at a disadvantage! I can't do anything but look at you, but you could pretty much do anything to me!"

Metztli sighed in relief that Filippa wasn't upset at her. She realized her grouchy response was out of fear she would push Filippa away, and was reassured by the giggle.

Too cute.

"You're right, it doesn't make sense. Maybe I'm just afraid of hurting you. Sometimes I don't think ahead in situations like this." She tightened her grip slightly on Filippa's hand. "Maybe I'm afraid of what you'll see. But I'm trying, see?" She smiled apologetically and tried to soften her gaze. It felt strange to be vulnerable again, to try to put trust and effort into an unknown outcome. So much fear plagued her about everything... except protecting those she was charged with protecting. And apparently, those she liked. A lot.

Love? No, she shied away from that. Not love, not yet. She wasn't even sure if she'd ever really felt it.

It was so strange to see her eyes so soft compared to her usual stone-hard glare. Filippa was caught off-guard.
"Why-what- why'd you think that- that you'd hurt me?" she stammered.
The irony, Filippa thought, was that nothing made her feel more powerless than gentle and kind eyes. What was she doing? Taking advantage of someone who clearly needed someone to be there for her? Tricks were one thing; playing with people's hearts was something else entirely. She swallowed, hoping that Metztli couldn't sense her nervousness. This wasn't the kind of jobs she did. She wasn't Godek.

Metztli paused to think for a moment, and then spoke softly. "Let me see if I can explain it to you. You are proficient in knifework, right? My eyes, like your knife, are a weapon. For a psychic, making eye contact is the equivalent of brandishing a knife, it often has intent to harm." She stroked her thumb gently along the side of Filippa's hand. She had noticed her nervousness and it made her happy; maybe her lieutenant was as flustered as she was about the situation. It felt good to have someone care about her, not for her job, not for her abilities, but just her.

She continued. "While yes, when wielding your weapon you have control, accidents happen. Slips happen." She smiled again, trying to mollify Filippa. "But I am trying, see?" And honestly, I could look into your eye all day, beautiful girl.

Filippa nodded in agreement.
"Dat actually makes a lot of sense, thank you." She'd never given being a psychic much thought- it had simply been synonymous with Star for so long- but it sounded like quite the hassle. "I guess you never haf the luxury of being unarmed."
She felt a twang of guilt. "I'm sorry- I am sure I can get used to not looking you in the eye. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." And she meant it, for whatever reason.

Seeing no one nearby, filippa shifted next to Metztli, letting their join hands rest on her leg. She felt even more nervous now, a mix of guilt and excitement, being so close to her. Things were going well, she supposed- but she longed to be closer for whatever reason. Hesitantly, she leaned closer to see if Metztli'd allow her to rest her head on her shoulder.
"Just don't worry too much; who hasn't accidentally hurt someone, okay? I sink it's just a risk of being with and caring about people, you know?"

Metztli laughed quietly. "As soon as I run out of spells, I am completely unarmed. I can't even pick up a stick to defend myself without getting exhausted." She sighed. "Weaker than the weakest farmer."

She reached up and pulled Filippa's head to her shoulder, stroking her jawline gently. "Filippa, despite my protestations to general eye contact... I do truly like meeting your eye. It's so rare to meet with happiness in a gaze."

Metztli felt a twinge of need twist through her when her hand rested on Filippa's leg. All she wanted was to cut loose, push the girl back into the wall, and kiss her. But no, that might scare her off. She took a calming breath. It had been so long since she had been touched. "Well, if I can at least try to prevent any damage, I will. It's worth it."

"See, at least you try," Filippa muttered. "Better than most people."
You should leave now, she thought to herself, before Whitewood gets to you. She remembered when she had first arrived, how scared and frail she had been. But was it any better now? Sure, she could take on a few more monsters or add a bit of assistance when working with her family, but was she better off because of it?
Filippa tensed at the idea of Metztli running off into battle like Milo or Pry. They had been defined by their strength in town, and yet where were they now, for all their muscle? She leaned in further, until her nose just barely brushed against her throat.

"I really don't care eef you're strong, Captain," murmured the gypsy girl into Metztli's neck.

Metztli let out a sudden quiet exhale as tingles shivered out from where Filippa nuzzled against her neck. Her heart raced, but she focused, trying to settle it. She shifted her hand to scratch Filippa's head again, kissing her hair softly. "I'm glad you think that," she murmured. "My job demands strength. But I think I make up for what I lack in physicality with confidence." She smiled. "Confidence and bluster," Her fingers curled against Filippa's, resting, almost chaste, together on Filippa's warm leg. Anyway, I need to be strong to protect you.

"So long as people think you are strong, it makes no difference. Just give a big show every once in a while." Filippa let her lips brush up against Metztli's neck as she talked, hoping to drive her crazy- as crazy as she must look, a gypsy matriarch sitting and flirting with a Runan official. She smelled nice, much nicer than any boy at least. And Despite being such a grump on the outside, she actually sounded gentle in this moment.

"You know, you can always quit," she said, practically kissing her. 'Wait! What a stupid suggestion, thought Filippa. 'Then this whole game would be pointless- great going.' But it WOULD be so much nicer if she just quit, she certainly wouldn't be dead on the ground quite as frequently, right?

Metztli tried to keep her breath steady, but it was difficult - she was nearly panting at Filippa's ministrations. Her back tensed as she fought to retain control, to calm down. We are sitting on the porch. Someone will see. But no - the weather didn't make for meandering townsfolk and their position provided a great vantage point of the paths. Calm down! She can't know how much she affects me.

"Quit?" she said, trying and failing to return her voice to normal; it came out in a breathy almost gasp. "that would be irresponsible. And who would take over, you? I'm sure that would go over well with the Inspector. I'd prefer not to have martial law instated by people who... care..." She trailed off and leaned her head back, tingles racing down her spine from the kisses. She let go of Filippa's hand and started stroking her leg, finally putting down her guard a bit. She wants this, right? Otherwise she wouldn't have started it.

Filippa froze for a moment, surprised by how easy it had been to get a reaction out of Metztli- it was almost too easy. For a moment, the thought crossed her mind that SHE was the one being played; she certainly had let her own guard down in a matter of minutes. But the feeling of her hands slipping down her leg, the sound of her breath; they were too nice to think about too much.
She smiled and reached her arm around to grab Metztli's hip, pulling her into her side.
"I think it would be better if we went inside somewhere," she said softly. "Perhaps the guard cabin? Or the caravan?"

Metztli felt a wave of lust rush through her. "Yes, I think that'd be best," she muttered, frustrated at her weakness. "Here in the guard cabin is fine, nobody's here and we won't get interrupted by your... compatriots." This is so good. How does she do this to me so easily?

She pulled out of Filippa's embrace and stood, glancing about again before opening the door. Need combated with a sudden twitch of fear as she left her back defenseless. She kicked the nerves away. If Filippa was going to harm me, she has had plenty of chances.

The guard house was empty, as expected. Metztli turned back around as the door shut behind Filippa, and pulled her close. She was breathless and she stared hard into Filippa's eye, caught by its brightness.

"Wait, wait, Captain," Filippa said, looking away. She could feel Metztli's desperation in her labored breath, her tense hands. A pang of guilt bit at her insides.
"Are you sure? Are you sure you want me, of all things? I mean, this- this is just stupid." She shook her head and sighed. "This could ruin your reputation, your standing, your job. There are other people in Whitewood, you know, plenty of bodies to touch, if your not too picky. Plenty of, you know, legal citizens." Filippa stepped back an inch, her shoulders and spirits falling. "This is a bad idea for you. It doesn't make any sense."

Metztli felt heat blast through her and she turned bright red. Of course she doesn't want to do this, I took it too far. She let her hands drop and stepped back, staring hard at the wall. Tears pricked her eyes. This is what you get for being so needy.

"You're right," she responded, her voice hard and tight. "This is stupid. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" Her voice caught and she felt her face twist. She sat down on one of the beds and took a breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you. You're right, it was inappropriate." She stared at the floor, her fury and embarrassment at her vulnerability overwhelming her. I know there are plenty, but who else has shown interest? Stupid. Stupid.