“Wait, so you don’t do the eyebrow thing consciously?” I asked Bassi as Dancer let us through the door and into the hideout. “Oh my god, that’s adorable!”

She rounded on me as the door closed, pushing me back against it with a finger to my chest. “I have a reputation to maintain, little Mist. Don’t you go tainting it by calling me adorable,” she hissed, although her eyes were smiling at me.

“My, haven’t you two gotten comfortable during your time down there,” Singer teased from her place at the table.

“Combat tends to do that,” Bassi said with a casual air I knew she was faking. “Come on Mist, time to get you into bed where you can heal.”

Neither of the two others in the room seemed particularly convinced by Bassi’s explanation, but they didn’t voice any of their doubts. I wonder what they would think once they got confirmation.

“Yes, ma’am,” I grinned as Bassi took my hand, passing Singer a wink as I was pulled past her and up the stairs.

We passed Whistle on our way up to the second floor and he gave us both a big smile and wave combo. “How did it go down there?”

“Very well, although she lacks finesse. Our little Mist will be a force of nature by the time I am done with her,” Bassi said with a delighted, slightly feral grin in my direction. Damn, it was like she was taking great pleasure in training and then unleashing me on the world. “She’s a bit worse for wear right now though, I’m going to take her up to her room and make sure she gets some healing.”

“Aye, that sounds like Mist,” he laughed, patting me on the shoulder and moving past us. “Get well Mist, we have a job to do in a few weeks. Need you at your best, eh?”

“You got it, Whistle,” I smiled, then pretended to consider something. “You’re on your own when you piss off the guards though. Getting seen isn’t my thing.”

“Oh, I was counting on it!” he laughed, heading down the hallway towards the tavern.

Leading me up the stairs, Bassi pulled me into my room and left me at the door while she fussed around. She left the room again without a word, appearing within a minute carrying a bunch of extra pillows.

“Alright, you’re going to rest,” she said, pointing to the bed like it was an order.

I laughed, then turned and pointed to my back. “Can you get me?”

A nod and she was over behind me, working at the complex arrangement of ties and clasps to get me out of my thief suit. Compared to the first night, she’d learned how to get me naked much more quickly.

As she did so, I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes. “Can I at least have some books to read? I’m going to get so bored if I have to rest for however many days to let everything heal.”

She glanced up and met my eyes. Goodness, her stares were so… unsettling. She held my gaze for a long while, her head tilted gently to the side and hands still against my back. What was she thinking? There was no smile on her face, expression distant and contemplative.

“Bassi?” I asked tentatively, my voice causing her to start slightly, looking down at where her hands had stalled like she was just remembering what she was doing.

“What… what did you say?” she asked, her eyes now glued to the task at hand.

That was weird, what had that been about? I gave a mental shrug, rather than pushing on it. Bassi was the type of person who you needed to wait on, any personal information had to be given only on her terms.

“Books, I asked if I could have some books to read while I lay around in bed,” I repeated.

“Yes, that should be fine,” she nodded, voice quiet. Finishing with the ties, she stepped back and gave me an odd smile, “There, done. I’ll go see about the books, but you get into bed.”

What followed was one of the most boring weeks of my life. If I had been back on sweet sweet earth, I’d have had my phone and laptop to keep me company. The highlights of each day were when Bassi would slip into my room to hang out. Sometimes that involved clothing, sometimes not. I found myself enjoying either. I wasn’t sure how she felt, but I was so glad for our growing friendship. It was one of the best things about my new life.

It was also very annoying when she kept me in bed after I’d begun to get better enough to move around. You’d think she was actually my lover the way she hovered over me.

Eventually I was able to get back to my thief training, although with an added tutor. A tutor I was confused about, and I said so the morning of my first day recovered when Lark approached me while I was eating breakfast.

“Hold on,” I frowned, holding up a hand to forestall him while I swallowed some bread. “Why exactly do I have to learn to dance?” I asked, genuinely confused.

He grinned. “Bassi said so, and Bassi is the boss, so we do what she tells us.”

I groaned and rubbed at my eyes. “Did she give a reason, or is she just making me learn random shit for the fun of it?”

Rather than answer immediately, he pulled up a chair and sat down, planting his chin in his palm to give me a probing look. “You tell me… why would Bassi want our newest and prettiest member to learn how to dance?”

I blinked in startled confusion for a moment, my mouth following all of that by dipping open slightly. Then, to top it all off, I felt a blush rise across my cheeks. The guy was totally probing for information!

“I have no idea why,” I mumbled, going pointedly back to my food.

He laughed, leaning back in the chair to give me a sly look. “Well, the answer she gave me was that learning to dance would help inform your, and I quote, messy movements.”

“Of course she said that,” I grumbled, poking at a hunk of ham.

“I’m interested to know what has caused that gorgeous shade of pink lighting your cheeks though?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

“I made a mess of every fight I got into down there,” I lied, popping the ham into my mouth.

“I see,” he replied with a disbelieving look.

“I’ll learn to dance though, if she thinks it will help,” I shrugged, talking around my mouthful of food now, because fuck him if he was going to tease me then he could get a good look at some masticated ham.

“We’ll start when you’re finished then,” he grinned, standing up and stretching out his back in a yawn. “Meet me in the training room downstairs.”

“Dick,” I muttered in his general direction as he left.

That had him pausing, turning to look at me over his shoulder. “What was that phrase you used the other day? Wasn’t it… You are what you eat?”

Ham. Went. Everywhere.

 

****

 

“No, you have to be gentle,” she admonished me, covering my hand with hers and guiding me softly, deeper and deeper.

My breathing slowed as I felt it, the slight tremor that told me I had the right spot. “O-oh, yes,” she breathed, the smile evident in her tone, even if I couldn’t see her from where I was. “A little to the left, yes… right there!”

Just a slight amount of pressure had my target coming undone, and Jitters and I both threw our hands into the air and cheered.

“High five!” I exclaimed, holding my palm up. She poked it with a finger.

“What is a high five?” she laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re very strange, Mist.”

“It’s where you slap my palm as hard as you can,” I explained, taking her hand and slapping it lightly against mine. “It’s a gesture of celebration and camaraderie.”

“Wastelanders,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. Giving me a limp high five.

“No, no… more effort!” I grumbled, holding my hand up again. That’s always how you do it. People are always wimpy on the first try, but then you call them out on it, challenge them. That’s when you get the real stinging goodness that is a proper high five. The type that has your eyes watering and your ears ringing. Not sure how that last part happens, but it does, trust me.

The next one echoed through the room, a resounding crack that had us both bending over to cradle our hands in pain. “How was that?” she asked hoarsely, palm wedged between her thighs.

“Fucking beautiful,” I squeaked, shaking my own hand and dancing around.

After a few careful deep breaths, her grin returned, followed by giggles. “Do you think we’ll have to be called Red Hand Jitters and Red Hand Mist now?” she asked, holding up her glowing pink palm.

“Won’t he get upset that we’re taking his name?” I asked with a snort, carefully opening and closing my hand experimentally.

“Probably, he’s very protective of his name,” she mused, bending down to pick up the lock that had apparently fallen to the floor after I opened it.

I sat down with a thump in the nearest chair. “Why is that anyway? I thought his red hand was from when that shopkeeper burned him for stealing or something?”

“It’s like a badge of honor now,” she shrugged, placing the lock back down on the desk and leaning her hip against it. “Part of his identity or whatever now. He was only a kid when it happened, after all. Street kids like us get attached to some strange things, what with having no parents to get attached to like normal children.”

I nodded neutrally, not wanting to talk about how I felt on the subject of parents.

“Well, anyway,” she said, clapping her hands together and then wincing in pain as her tender palm was abused again. “Ah… shit that hurts.”

“You put a lot of power into that move,” I nodded, smiling with amusement.

“Yes…” she agreed, puffing out a few breaths. “Anyway, I think we are done for the day. Same as most other skills, you’ve got some sort of freakish muscle memory for lock picking.”

“But I don’t have the cognitive side of things down, that’s for sure,” I groaned, tapping at one of my loose lock picks where it sat on the desk.

With an encouraging smile, she patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll get there. Just need to train your brain, learn the why of everything. Then you’ll be right up there with the rest of us. Moreso in a lot of areas. No one is as multi-skilled as you, except maybe Bassi or Whistle.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t really feel like I’ve earned it.”

“Ah, who cares!” she exclaimed, waving away my concerns. “This is the real fuckin’ world, Mist. Fairness ain’t shit but for the hill folk and their ridiculous tourneys. We’re slate plains people, we need every goddess damned advantage we can get, or the bastards up the slope will use us up and throw us out.”

“True,” I sighed, again reminded of how shit this world was, but also the depressing parallels between it and my old home.

Distantly, through the walls, we heard a shout, “Where’s Mist? Someone find me Mist, now!”

It was a male voice, and I shared a look with Jitters as I stood up and made for the door. It slammed open before I could open it myself, revealing Ward, our resident information guy. I didn’t really know him very well, he spent a lot of time out in drinking holes around the city, taking in the gossip and generally keeping us all informed of things.

Leaning against the doorframe, he puffed and wheezed, trying to speak. “Bassi’s… office,” he finally got out. “Opportunity... we can’t miss. Going… to be… glorious.”