Life After Death

Quinn: but he's not gay

{Quinn}

Westley and I were up by noon, though I suppose if we had been responsible, we would have been up earlier. The town was not much busier in the daylight than when we had come in, but it didn't feel quite so spooky.

"So I met our succubus last night," I told Westley over lunch.

He set his glass down, coughing. "What?"

"I couldn't sleep so I came down to the bar," I explained. "Her name is Larachime; she owns a shop down the road."

"And what? You two shared drinks and then went your separate ways?" Westley demanded. "You should have woke me; it could have been dangerous."

"She's not dangerous," I replied. "I said good night, she left, and here I am, whole and sound."

"What did she say?" he asked.

"She's been here a while, and she likes it here," I told him. "She doesn't want to return to Hell. According to her, she's not causing any trouble."

"Well, of course she would say that," Westley grumbled. "Let's finish eating and then we'll go talk to her. You crazy bastard."

It was always easier to eat sandwiches on the road; you could walk and eat. But this time, we could have a meal sitting down. We weren't killing anyone, and stealth wasn't important, at least on this mission. If it had been, last night was a disaster.

"Was anyone giving her weird looks last night?" he inquired.

"No, she didn't seem out of place and the bartender didn't seem threatened," I responded. "I was paying attention, Westley."

"Bartender?" He peered at me. "How much did you drink last night?"

"Two shots and a beer," I replied.

Westley shook his head. "You crazy bastard."

**

It didn't take us long to find the shop in question, the town wasn't very big and the faeries were helpful. It was a small wooden structure with the word Apothecary done in silver script on the window. It was open.

"Shall we?" I asked.

"Please let me do the talking," Westley requested.

When I nodded, he took a step ahead of me and went inside.

It was filled with herbs and potions and flowers, pressed flowers were even covering the ceiling. The little bell above the door had rung and a woman's voice called to the front.

"I'm coming, sorry, just one moment." Larachime was wiping off her hands, but when she saw me, she smiled.

"Found me quickly, didn't you?" she said. "And who is this?"

"My name is Westley." He gave a sort of head nod towards her, which Larachime returned.

"I'm sure Quinn told you all about me," she said. "Let's go sit in the back, it's more private there."

We followed her, a little bewildered. I had no idea how this conversation was going to go, but I couldn't imagine that we had the upper hand.

Larachime had us sit down at a small round table and she brought a teapot and three teacups.

"So, is this why you didn't come back with me?" Larachime asked. "I have to admit, you two are a cute couple."

I glanced at Westley whose mouth was hanging open. He looked at me helplessly. So much for him doing the talking.