Work Text:
On the fourth visit, halfway through the brewing, Fig sets a happily ribbiting Boggy on the counter and says, “Can I ask you a question?”
“No, I’m not giving you a discount.” Adaine squints at the row of jars shelved over her cauldron, mouthing the names as she goes along. Eye of newt next? Was it eye of newt, or tail of newt? She always forgets. “If you keep falling for the same trick from the same demon over and over, that’s your problem.”
“Not what I was gonna ask, but wow, some fuckin’ judgment over here.” Fig’s grins, whether teasing or genuine, are always infectious, and Adaine has to resist the urge to make a face at her. She usually hates customer service, dammit. She’s not supposed to enjoy this part. “Maybe it’s a different demon every time with similar skillsets. You don’t know.”
“Then it is incredible that you have found four succubi of the two in recorded existence,” Adaine says, wry. Her potion book – comically large, impossible for her to lift without magical aid – flips through with a wave of her hand, landing with a breeze on the page for anti-demonic antidotes. Eye of newt first. She knew it.
“What can I say, I’m a desirable lady.” Fig waggles her eyebrows. Adaine gives her a look that is half unimpressed and half amused – a very common expression between them. Fig’s smile goes to something softer as she reaches a finger out and rubs behind Boggy’s eyes. His contented ribbits follow Adaine as she scoops up several jars of material, depositing them on the stand next to the cauldron, which has begun to emit a bad-smelling pink vapor. “I was wondering – not that I don’t, like, super appreciate it, because it means you can cure me and stuff. By why doesn’t the whole sexy curse work on you?”
Adaine pauses where she is reaching to open the jar of eyes. “…sexy curse?” she says, dubious, as she forces herself to start moving again.
“I mean, to be fair, if being sexy is a curse it’s nonstop for me,” Fig says, and Adaine can see the dramatic pose Fig strikes in her mind’s eye as she drops an eye in the brew. “But – I mean, it’s a fuckin’ challenge to get in here without getting jumped by any random person walking down the street. How come you aren’t trying to fuck ‘til we both die of exhaustion? Is there like a magic ward for that or something?”
Ah, that’s why she’s interested. Adaine’s shoulders sag, despite herself, in what is relief and not disappointment, she insists in her own head. “It’s not magic,” she says, lightly, sprinkling some herbs over the potion. These aren’t actually part of the potion, they just make it taste better. Adaine is a firm believer in using seasoning as liberally and often as possible. “That’s just how I am. I wouldn’t take it personally. I’ve never. Um.” Adaine busies herself rearranging her materials, as if she really needs to. “Felt. Attraction like that.”
And she’s trying to keep her eyes off Fig, because Fig is distracting at the best of times, and she needs to focus on her work so she doesn’t waste all the time and material and have to start over. But her eyes slide over despite herself, to find that Fig is – watching her, with that kind of curled intensity she gets, the same way when she demonstrated her lute for Adaine on the last visit. Something careful, in a way that Adaine didn’t think Fig could be when she first burst through, complaining as vulgar and loud as anyone Adaine’s ever met, as if townsfolk use Adaine’s shop often instead of trying to find ways to burn it down. “Like that?” Fig says, and there’s something dangerous in her voice, not intentional, just in the emotion of it, the same way Tracker gets when she comes in for her wolfsbane and Adaine gets her talking about Kristen. “So you have felt other attraction before?”
Adaine’s throat feels very dry. “I mean – theoretically,” Adaine says, not fumbling, working very well, doing a super good job. Boggy ribbits comfortingly. “It’s, uh, wanting to have sex with someone is very different from other pursuits. More romantic. I – “ Adaine’s eyes dart to Fig to Boggy to Fig to her cauldron, and she knows her face is going red despite herself. “I do, feel, I mean I can feel that, for people. But that’s not what that spell does, so it doesn’t, um, cause any changes in me.”
“Huh.” Fig’s expression has gone smooth, looking up at the ceiling, thoughtful. Adaine waits with bated breath. “So I can’t just get a no-sexy enchantment and cut this shit off at the pass?”
Adaine deflates in both relief and something nervous. “Tragically, you will continue to be as sexy as ever.”
“Ah, man. Hard life, but someone’s gotta live it.” Fig grins. Adaine’s eyes crinkle, sincere, as she smiles back, before she pulls out a ladle and a jar and pours the potion in, careful.
“Now, you take this – “
“I know, I know, take a shot now just to get home, drink it all before bed.”
“It’s not really a shot,” Adaine mutters, but Fig has already pulled back and taken a big gulp of it, pulling away to make a face.
“Thanks, Adaine.” Fig digs into her pocket and slaps the second half of her payment onto the counter – a considerable amount of gold to match the pre-payment, for materials and confidence. “I hope – well, I don’t hope I don’t see you again, but I hope I’m not fucking cursed when I do.”
“Fig,” Adaine says, before she can stop herself, and Fig stops at the door. Adaine’s heart is racing a little, and she’s very sure that she’s ruined any chances already, that she is asking too much, that Fig will think she’s annoying – but Boggy croaks and Adaine pushes through the anxiety, swallowing. “I know I said no discounts, but if you, ah, wanted to play me that lullaby from last week again, I might give you some of this coin back for your performance.”
The smile that spreads on Fig’s face is genuine, just visible under her long strands of hair, and makes Adaine’s heart beat faster than any spell could. “Keep your gold,” Fig says, pulling her lute off her back, walking back in to sit, once again, for a captive audience. “This one’s free.”