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Kima could feel the other woman’s eyes on her. “Is she staring at me?” she whispered to Dohla, just loud enough for the rest of the group to hear if they wanted to. The paladin continued to clean her armor.
The young dwarf shook her head. “I don’t understand why you ask questions you know the answers to, friend.” The rogue picked at her nails with a dagger. “I also don’t understand your strange magical dating customs. I have a hard enough time finding one person who wants to bed me, let alone three.”
“Really only two,” Allura offered helpfully from across the campsite where she sat trading notes with Drake and Ghenn.
“And you have a hard time finding people to fuck because you can be an asshole,” Sirus added. “Luckily for you,” the fighter continued with a sly wink, “I like that in a partner.”
Dohla blushed and swatted at Sirus but turned back to Kima. “So tell me again why Miss Prim-and-Proper has her eye on you?”
Kima groaned, but leaned in toward her friend. “Theoretically, magic users are supposed to bring balance to the Weave even in their personal lives: two arcane casters, two divine; two male, two female. You only have sex with the members of the other casting tradition. Goldilocks over there has hit it off with Drake and Ghenn, and thinks that if only I hop into bed with them, we’ll have a beautiful happy-ever-after.”
“Drake’s not bad-looking. For a wizard.”
“Or for a man,” Kima agreed. “If it were a matter of looks, it wouldn’t be anything. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” Dohla prodded. “She’s too nice?”
“Too nice, too booksmart, too everything! Give me someone who can handle themselves in the real world anyday!” Kima snorted. “Bahamut help her if she ever gets separated from the rest of the group.”
***
The next day...
Dragon forgive me, Kima prayed as they ran from the ambush. I know thy justice is swift and merciful, but seriously? The orcs pursuing them had charged straight into the middle of their group, splitting them up. That had left her and--Bahamut be merciful--Allura together.
And now there were a dozen angry orcs chasing after them.
“Kima,” Allura murmured, “don’t stop running, but--”
“--That’s right, make fun of the halfling--”
“I believe their archers are about to fire. On the count of three, jump into my arms.”
“I keep telling you, I’m not interested.”
“Kima, please!” Then, a split second later, “Three!”
Luckily, Kima’s reflexes were good, and she jumped on command, closing her eyes as the volley of arrows rained down around them. Most of them, she was surprised to discover, shattered off of a sphere of force that now surrounded them. “This is...cozy,” she grunted, trying to make herself comfortable in the tiny sphere. In her armor. In the arms of the most insufferable woman she’d ever met. “How long does this last?”
“Hopefully long enough for them to lose interest.” Kima recognized the Message spell in her ear and Hated It.
“Great,” Kima muttered.
***
Approximately half an hour later...
“Damn, Kima!” Dohla whistled. “Let the woman breathe!”
“Quiet, the lot of you,” Kima snarled back, wiping Allura’s sissy lipstick from her mouth with her gauntlet. “Never speak of this again.”
“You. Wish,” Ghenn laughed, and small sums of gold changed hands.
“I detest all of you,” Allura remarked. “Kima, do you think we could take them in a sparring match?”
Kima shrugged. “I’m willing to find out.”