Five-minute sprint challenge. I don’t know who the characters are. I don’t care.
*****
Her head hurt. So what else was new? It seemed like forever since it didn’t hurt.
Yeah, so this was different. What had started as a throb behind her eye, had moved to a stab behind her ear. That was odd. It had never—
“Come on, stop sulking. What do you want to do that doesn’t involve killing anyone?”
“Depends.” She reached for the new beer delivered by her supposed friend. “Is maiming out too?”
A snort of laughter brought back the throb. Great, now she had both.
“What’s got you so out of sorts?”
“Do you want the list alphabetically, by priority, chronologically, or in Greek?”
“I’ve forgotten most of my Greek. How about, what do we do to fix it?” She opened her mouth, he beat her to it. “Yes, killing is still out. So is maiming. Sorry.”
“Then we go the hell away and let me drink.”
“No can do, little one. Orders. I don’t get to go home unless I bring you with.”
“Add that to the effing list.”
“Okay, I’m giving you one more beer to get more cooperative, then I’m carrying you.”
She twitched her coat back, clearing the path for a grab at her belt. “Don’t make me break the rules.”
“Since when—oh, you mean my rules.” He sighed, gusting foam from his own beer onto the table. “Okay, two beers. Three, if you’ll pass the hell out and I won’t have to risk life and limb carrying you.”
Pass out. She could do that.
What the hell. At least she’d have a headache for a damned reason, come morning.