One particularly hot and sweaty day, after Ishmael has pummeled Ariana well into exhaustion and he's actually broken a sweat...
He sits down Indian-style on the ground and takes off his shirt. She can see that he has a variety of well-healed scars dimpling his torso. He flexes his muscles a bit, stretching.
"So. Tamaryn's your kid?"

Ariana starts to nods tiredly, then catches herself with a start. "What led you to that conclusion?"

He chuckles, "All those Mother-Hen looks you were giving to Felix when that Irene-chick was around. You looked like you were ready to go bitch-cakes if she so much as sneezed on Tamaryn..."

She laughs a bit ruefully. "I had no idea that I was so obvious. I'm not normally so overprotective, and Tamaryn can certainly take care of herself, but I don't like what I sensed from Irene. And I don't want Tamaryn being hurt by some mistake Felix made in his past."

He laughs at her, then affects a mock serious tone, "You? Oh nooooo. You're never overprotective."

She makes a face. "Why do I think I'm being mocked?"

"Because you're smarter than you look?" He rolls away from the anticipated punch for that one, laughing.

She kicks out at him, actually, but without a whole lot of energy. "I don't recall being told that insults were part of the training package." She grins.

He leans towards her, "And so today's lesson *is*?" He raises his eyebrow expectantly, but then doesn't leave her time to answer. "Ask more questions," he pops with a cheesy grin.

She rolls her eyes. "You go right ahead. I'm too tired to move."

"And let me just tell you, that beats the hell out of 'too bruised to move.'" He starts to lay back on the ground, but then sort of freezes. "What the hell?" His tone is absolutely serious. He bounds to his feet. "Shit! The tree!"

Ariana leaps to her feet, and looks frantically in the direction of the tree.

"Heh heh heh. Psyche." He sits back down.

"Ooooh...." She conjures a snowball and throws it at him.

He catches it and tosses it back at her. "Knock, knock." He has a big ole cheese-eatin' grin on his face.

She ducks it and puts her hands behind her back. "Who's there?"

"Heh heh heh. Banana." He looks like he's on the verge of bursting into a full-out, roll around on the ground type laugh.

She groans. "Banana who?"

He has tears in his eyes from trying not to laugh. He barely gets out, "Knock, knock," again.

She's wearing an 'I don't know why I'm doing this' expression. "Who's there?"

He's laughing like an all out maniac, but she can pretty much make out "banana" between his gasps for air.

She raises an eyebrow. "Banana again?"

He's lost it. He's laughing so hard he can't even deliver the inevitable "Knock, knock." Watching him, she can see that this is honestly funny to him.

This seems to amuse her, and she answers, "Who's there?" to his unvoiced question.

Gripping his sides, he mouths, 'Knock, knock,' pantomiming a knock with his fist...

"Knock, knock?"

He stifles his laughter, tears still streaming down his face. "OoooOOoOOh. Who's there?" He sounds excited.

She looks puzzled. "Um, banana."

He sighs, disappointed. "So much for that. If I recall correctly," he sits back up and wipes the tears from his eyes, "this conversation started with Tamaryn..."

"Yes, it did." She tosses him the object she'd been holding behind her back, which is a water balloon.

He pegs it mid-air with a dagger, splattering them both with water. He catches it before it has time to hit the ground. He smiles at her. "Nice try." He closes some of the distance between them. "So what's she doing marrying Felix? I mean, it's obvious that he's shtupped her more than once, but he doesn't seem real interested in the whole marriage schtick. I mean, really. If he's been getting the milk free for years, why buy the cow now?"

She winces. "Felix has problems making a real commitment. That was the source of the whole mess with Irene, too. He's afraid to get married because we live forever, basically. Which is a stupid reason, in my opinion. I mean, what does it say to the person who loves you?" She shakes her head. "I suspect what finally lit a fire under Felix was the prospect of possibly being married off to someone else. Both Ronan and Alex have recently been betrothed as part of an arranged marriage. Felix was probably afraid he'd be next."

"Irene?" he seems a bit confused for a minute. "Oh! The hot little number circling Tamaryn at the last shindig -- hmmm. I guess that wasn't technically a 'shindig' since it *was* my mom's funeral." He shrugs. "Whatever it was, it sure as hell made for scant pickings..."
He continues, "So what's Tamaryn's spin on all of this. I mean, if Felix has little Miss Blondilocks flitting around, Tamaryn's gotta notice that sort of shit. She still wants to marry him? I mean, if it's just the whole we-have-spuds-and-should-probably-get-married thing, it's no good. It won't last five years, much less all of forever."

"Irene is irrelevant. Felix hasn't been interested in her in years. Tamaryn doesn't want to marry him because they have children. She loves him. I think..." She hesitates. "I think Felix reminds her of her late husband."

He shakes his head, "There's bad mojo in that."

"That's what worries me. But they've been together for six years. I think if that's all that attracted her to him, she'd realize it by now."

He shrugs. "I dunno. I didn't exactly grow up with a lot of role models for that sort of shit. In fact, Whims is the only one I know who was married while I was growin' up -- and given that she whacked her man and fed him to his family, I don't think she quite qualifies as a 'role model' in the traditional sense." He pauses a bit. "Six years, huh? It doesn't seem like a whole helluva lot in the grand scheme of things, does it..."

"I don't suppose so. Which may be why Felix is so reluctant to commit himself to a long-term relationship. I married Lucien after only knowing him for three years, though."

He clears his throat and repositions himself, but doesn't say anything.

She sighs. "Go ahead, say it. It's not like I haven't heard it before."

"Quit throwing up the nails for your own crucifixion." He stands up and dusts himself off. "I'm fucking starving. You wanna go get something to eat?"

"Sure, why not?" She gets to her feet with a groan. "Gods, I'm sore in places I didn't even know existed."

With a grin, she sees a look cross Ishmael's eyes that hints that what just passed through his mind would probably be unacceptable in polite company. "Mmmmm. Smells like womprat-on-a-stick again..." He starts to put his shirt back on. "Not that I think anyone in Benedict's troops should spend less time training, but maybe next time one of Michael's guys could come along..."

She smiles a bit at his grin, then nods in agreement. "It would be nice. Of course, one can always conjure something to eat, but it's not quite the same." She stretches gingerly. "Why are you so curious about Tamaryn, anyway?"

He looks at her. "I spent 100 years in Chaos with Whimsy and now I'm stuck here baby-sitting a tree with you and Fiona for five years. Do you REALLY have to ask?"

"Ah, I see. When you put it that way, it does seem obvious. You want to sleep with her."

He stops and bows low before her. "My lady, I am deeply offended that you would think my intentions towards your daughter to be so dishonorable. I assure you, my intents towards Tamaryn are pure. I just hate to see so beautiful a creature laid low in such a manner."
He stands tall and clears his throat. "Though I must confess, I'm starting to wish that the Ygg mach III would develop a sizable knot-hole..."

She chuckles. "First, I would find nothing objectionable if you did want to sleep with my daughter, so long as you didn't hurt her. And second, I confess I sometimes wish Ygg would hit a sudden growth spurt, so we could go home."

He 'adjusts' himself. "Hey. I'm not making any promises." He's grinning like a schoolboy. "And as for the tree, I can relate. I'm gonna have a helluva handshake by the time we get back."

She snickers. "You men have much easier time of it, you know."

He shakes his head. "Nah. That's not it." He gets that silly-ass grin again. "You women just can't do anything by yourselves..."

She throws another conjured snowball at him. "That's what you all like to believe."

He closes his eyes and lets this one hit him. "You women are just so easy." He pauses. "Which is, incidentally, something else we all like to believe."

"So I've noticed. Although if that were true, you wouldn't be looking for knotholes, now would you?" She grins a shit-eating grin of her own.

"Oooooh. I love it when you talk dirty, Ariana. You do realize that I'm getting off on this, right?" Then before she has a chance to react, "*Knock, knock*"

She raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Who's there?"

"Avocado."

"Avocado who?"

He leans across the table and drops his voice low. "Avocado go," and with a quick peck on the cheek, "Catch ya later, sweetheart!" Then he bolts off towards his tent.

She groans, then heads off towards her own place to change, tossing over her shoulder, "If you ask me, *that's* what you get off on!"

"Outrageous Fortune"
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All text on this page is © 1998 by Kris Fazzari and Lisamarie Babik.

Last modified on February 24, 1998 by Kris Fazzari.