Triple A Adventuring Agency (Part6)

"Inappropriate? Nah, unless you count almost serenading trees." She chuckles nervously. "Though I wouldn't mind hearing that sometime when you're... uh, less herbally enhanced."
He's resting on my shoulder. Don't panic, don't panic...
"As for sticking around, well... you're kind of stuck with me now. Triple A Adventuring Agency takes client satisfaction very seriously." She winks, then yawns. "Maybe we should both get some rest. Big day of not-tree-climbing tomorrow." She gently shifts, supporting his head. "Here, lie down. I'll keep watch for any revenge-seeking deer."

"I don't know, I like music but I'm pretty sure my singing voice brings out the pitchforks and torches." Too tired to feel nervous or hesitant, Malbec allows his head to be guided down. His eyelids grow heavy. "Yep, a big day of, adventurous flower picking, and not fighting the wildlife." His breathing starts to fall into a resting rhythm. "Wake me for my turn to take watch, or if, you need, anything." The warmth of the fire, and feeling Cricket's body so close to his, fades as sleep takes him.

*Snap!*

Cricket jolts awake, fumbling for her sword. "Who's there? Show yourself, you... you... leafy interloper!" She squints into the darkness, heart racing.
Oh gods, what if it's debt collectors? Or worse, an angry badger?
"M-Malbec? Maybe now's a good time for that wooden spoon story..."

The fatigues of the day slow Malbec's reaction. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"C-Cricket? Is it my turn to keep watch? How, long was I asleep for?" Eyes not yet adjusted to the dim firelight he stretches out an arm to steady himself as he tries to lift himself to his knees but his hand encounters coarse fabric and firm muscle as he accidentally grabs and squeezes Cricket's thigh. 
What a strange tree, why is it wearing pants? Oh gods–
His eyes pop open and he retracts his hand, falling back to his seat. "S-sorry. Uh, w-w-what were you saying?"

Oh gods, his hand... No, focus!
"Huh? Oh, um, you weren't asleep that long. I think. Time's a bit fuzzy when you're terrified." She grips her sword tighter, scanning the darkness. "There's something out there. Probably not a debt collector, unless they've learned to rustle leaves." 
Keep it together, Cricket. Don't embarrass yourself in front of the cute... I mean, competent adventurer.
"So, about that wooden spoon story? Now might be a good time for some heroic inspiration. Or at least a distraction from my impending panic." She inches closer to him, whispering urgently, "Got any secret forest-calming talents you haven't mentioned yet?"

"What?" Now fully awake Malbec looks around into the darkness, then notices Cricket’s drawn and ready sword. "Hey hey, calm down, it’s okay, no need to panic. Panic is what led us into a tree last time. I'm sure it's nothing or at least nothing we can't handle together." He carefully reaches for her hand to push the sword lower. "I think we're going to need to discuss the whole 'debt-collector' thing, but that can wait until the morning. Why don't you lay down in the tent and I'll tell you the spoony story." He keeps his tone calm and even.

He's so calm... how does he do that?
She lowers her sword, her hand trembling slightly in his. "Together? I... I like the sound of that." Her eyes dart nervously to the tent, then back to the darkness. "But what if it's a sneaky debt collector? Or a really quiet giant lizard?" She lets out a sigh, inching closer and whispering, "Okay, spoon story time. But... maybe you could tell it out here? I don't want to miss any forest ambushes."
His hand is so rough, and warm...
"And, um, about those debt collectors... It's a long story involving a broken magical artifact and some very angry wizards. But that's tomorrow-Cricket's problem, right?"

"Definitely a tomorrow problem." He gives her a nod of acceptance and her hand a gentle squeeze. Watching the way the little campfire made her eyes glimmer, Malbec feels a warmth spread across his face that had little to do with the fire. "Oh..." He lets go abruptly, lifting his hand to his mouth and clearing his throat, "... well, uh, if you feel more comfortable out here by the fire that works too. T-try and relax and I will regale you with the tale of Dinga the dwarf and his wonderful wooden spoon." He tosses another log onto the fire and settles down, his pack of tool-weapons within an arm's reach.

"Okay, I'll try to relax. But if any debt collectors show up, I'm blaming you." She manages a shaky smile. She flexes her fingers.
He didn't have to let go... No, focus on the story!
She settles down next to him, hugging her knees. "Alright, let's hear about this legendary spoon-wielding dwarf. I hope it's not as ridiculous as my badger incident." Her eyes dart nervously to the shadows, then back to him. "And, um, thanks for not freaking out about the debt thing. Most people run screaming when they hear about angry wizards."

"So, Dinga the dwarf... was he as clumsy as me, or more of a graceful spoon-fighter?"

"As elegant as an avalanche from the stories I've heard." Malbec smiled as he watched the sparks rise up from the fire and dance around. "The man I heard this tale from said the dwarf had earned the nickname 'Potato' for being about as sharp as a sack of spuds.
In this particular story, Dinga and his party were captured and being held prisoner by dark elves. When one of their captors got upset and spilled Dinga's dinner, Potato got so enraged that he bonked the guard on the head with the spoon the meal had come with." Malbec swishes a twig around to accentuate the story.
"Whap! The guard went down and one of Dinga's allies was able to grab the keys and they escaped, eventually. I think there was this whole thing with the guard towers but that’s another story. Dinga, thinking it was the spoon’s magical powers that won the day, not his own absurd strength, kept it as his secret weapon. That spoon traveled with him to the far corners of the realms and vanquished many foes. Although I'm starting to think that the bards have embellished the other stories more than a little bit." He looks over to see if Cricket was still listening or fallen asleep.

Wow, he's such a good storyteller!
She giggles, her eyes twinkling in the firelight. "A potato-brained dwarf with a 'magic' spoon? That's almost as ridiculous as my badger incident!"
He's so close... No, pay attention to the story!
"I bet those bards added dragons and princesses to the tale. Ooh, maybe the spoon could shoot lightning!” She yawns, leaning slightly closer. "You know, I once tried to fight off a debt collector with a ladle. Didn't work as well as Dinga's spoon."

"I'm glad you liked the story, I wasn't sure if I could tell it as well as the traveler did. Hmm? No, no princesses as far as I can recall but there probably was a dragon. Every story can be improved by including a dragon." He chuckles, glancing over to her and swallowing down his nerves. 
Hope she's feeling less nervous. I want to comfort her but . . . 
"I, uh, think a ladle would be effective in a certain type of fight. Especially if you're, dishing out, a beating." He lets silence linger for a moment to listen to the rushing water of the river and the sounds of the forest nearby, and the feeling of her body so close. 
Hopefully she can't hear how fast my heart beats every time she moves closer.

"I, ah umm, Ok I, uh, think I have one more story in me for tonight, but I think you owe me an unabridged explanation of this whole badger incident later."

Oh gods, he's so close. And that pun... it's terrible, but adorable.
She giggles, playfully nudging his shoulder. "Dishing out a beating? That was awful! I love it."

"Heh, Luna always said a man must intend his puns, anything less is a sign of cowardice." He replies, laughing with a faux noble drawl and giving her shoulder a light nudge back. "I think you two really would have got along."

Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "Alright, one more story, but then you have to promise to get some rest. Can't have my heroic spoon-wielding partner falling asleep mid-adventure tomorrow." She leans in, whispering conspiratorially, "And don't worry, I'll tell you all about the badgers. It's a tale of magic gone wrong, unexpected facial hair, and why I'm no longer allowed near the Wizard's Guild bakery." 

Cricket's whisper sends a shiver down his side, but Malbec convinces himself it was just the cool night air. "That, uh, sounds like quite the tale indeed. I look forward to hearing it." He took a deep breath hiding a yawn. 

"So, what's this last story? Please tell me it involves more kitchen utensils turned weapons!"

"I think I know just the one." He smiles wistfully.