I am

I am making friends

Chapter 7

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Jack's P.O.V

Rain. The second most common weather type in Briton, first being 'it's bloody freezing.' Thing is, I knew it was going to rain as well. Not when or where, just that it was. So you think I would have expected it, right? Wrong, it came at the most un opportune time. I wasn't wearing my coat or my cape, so I got soaked, again.  But it's no bother, I don't mind the rain. Vilain on the other hand, she started to look like a drowned cat.

"I take it you don't like the rain then." She scowled at me in return. "How do you not hate this?!" I shrugged and that made her scowl deeper. "I'm British, it rains almost everyday there." She just kept scowling. "if the wind changes your face will stay that way!" I sang. her face changed quick enough after that. "Come on, we're almost there." She sighed. "Almost where?" She didn't answer and walked ahead, whilst I put my cape on. "Wait! Almost where!"

When I finally caught up to her she was talking to another elf under an oak tree. "When, some one says 'wait." I started, struggling to get my breath back. "They generally want you to wait for them." Vilain gave me a blank stare but the elf next to her looked at me in disgust. "Jack this is my half brother Carver." Half? Giving him a thorough once over you'd notice several differences between him and the male elves I've already seen, but he had walked off before I could fully check him out. "Come on, we need to speak with the shaman." she said, pulling me through yet another forest.

"Don't mind Carver, he doesn't particularly like humans." She said with her hand on my head, guiding me through the trees and bushes. "what about you?" She didn't answer till we got to a clearing full of intricately designed tents. "I find you tolerable, but that's it."

That had me smiling, until an egg was thrown off me. "Dammit, I just had this shirt cleaned." And for the first time, I heard Vilain laugh, or try to hold one back at least. "That's what your bothered about?" I nodded, "Well yeah, it's the only shirt I've got with me as well." The only thing she did was point me in the direction of a colorful, layered tent. "Tell 'um I sent you."  I nodded and she ran off in the direction carver went.

Padding over to the layered tent, I got many strange looks off the other elves. I'd put my headphones in, but I guess id only look weirder to them. And wanting to make a good impression is kinda' what I want to do, but at least I didn't fall out the sky this time. Pushing open the entrance of the tent, I looked over my shoulder looking for the kids who threw the egg. When I found them over by some hunters, I breathed a sigh of relief walking in. "Um, hello?" I called out, letting go of the entrance cover thing. "Miran!" A very angry voice called out from behind the counter. The inside of this tent was set up the same way most clothes shops back home were, racks of clothes near the front, a few wardrobes around the side, filled with god only knows what, and a long counter top at the back. "Uhh, do you need a hand?" I asked walking towards the back. Silence. "Hello?" I called again. More silence. "Human?" The voice said with disinterest. "Yeah?" I heard a reluctant sigh and some rustling. "Can you get these clothes off me. please." The voice said. Leaning over the counter I asked, "How..." I trailed off. "Don't ask." Nodding I hopped over the counter.

Pulling the clothes off the elf was a little difficult, they were incredibly heavy, but I managed. "Thanks." the no longer faceless voice said. "No problem, I'm Jack."

"Micah." Nodding, I held out my hand to help him up. And he took it, maybe he isn't raciest like the others. "Thanks." When he stood up, I noticed several scars on his hand and arms. I was going to ask about them, but he interrupted me. "What are you here for?"

"Oh right, some kids threw an egg at me and it's stained my shirt. It's the only one I've too, so Vilain sent me here." Nodding he held out his hand. "Give us ya shirt."

Nodding I took my cape and jacket off. Micah kept his hand out but was watching my every move. Reaching for the hem of my shirt, he started to talk. "So Vil' sent ya, what are you to her?"

"A tolerable nuisance." He chuckled at that, shaking his head he walked to the front of the tent. "What's your measurements?"

"Not a clue." I may be gay, but that doesn't mean I'm immediately a fashonista, I can't count how many times Nikita pulled me back to my room to re-dress me just because I looked embarrassing. Women, I shall never understand them.

Micah gave me an inquisitive look and grabbed what I assume is a tape measure from his shirt pocket. At least I think it's a shirt, it kind of looks like a poncho.

"Take off your shirt." He said, like it didn't matter at all that I was g..... oh wait, he doesn't know, never mind. Shrugging off my cape, jacket and bag, leaving them by my feet, I carefully pulled my shirt off. I really didn't want egg on my face, it already had a rather fowl smell.

"Umm, where should I put it?" I said, really wishing it could be washed.

"Just throw it on the counter." He had an amused tone to his voice when he said that. Turning around, I aimed for the counter top, threw the shirt, and missed. Really fucking typical. Grunting I stomped over to my pathetically thrown shirt, when I heard a few deep chuckle and a light chuckle.

"I didn't think your throw would be that bad!" Vilain said, struggling to hold back a laugh.

"Yeah go on laugh it up, its really fucking funny." I groaned. And they did just that, they burst out laughing. Even Vilain's stoic/racist brother, who I didn't even notice till he started laughing. And his laugh was amazing. 

Sighing I walked back to where my stuff was, after putting my smelly shirt on the counter. Walking over to them, I saw Micah and Carver exchange a look. Vilain caught it to, but I don't think either of us knew what it meant. I stood in the center of the room and stuck my arms out like a scarecrow.

"Come on get it over with, I'm starting to get cold." Nodding Micah walked around behind me, wrapping some of the cold leather strip round my belly and hooked it round my back. then I felt a finger tapping on my back, then another and another, until I was down on one knee, being tickled and unable to get away.

"Stop, that t-t-tickles!" I managed to say threw my laughter.

"I knew it!" Carver shouted, then joined Micah in the tortuous tickling.

"Vilain! Help!"

"Your on your own with this little man." she chuckled and walked out the tent.

Oh god no, I'm doomed to be tickled!