Slippers and Swords

Takes place right after the fight with Shabby

"Gimme it!"

"No!"

"Gimme it!"

"No!"

"Give me it now Gourry!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

"Hmm, on top of what?"

Your battered corpse. "…just give me the sword Gourry."

"No."

"Why not."

"It mine. My family heirloom. "

Something occured to her. "We've had this argument for the last three hours." It had been a long three hours, and she was pretty convinced he wasn't going to hand over the weapon. Still, there wasn't anything else to do. Trying to talk him into sense helped pass the time.

"Has it been that long?"

"I think so. So, gonna give me the sword?"

"No."

"If you don't give me it—"

"You'll what?"

"I'll…beat you up and steal it?"

He eyed her seriously. "I don't think you would."

"Gourry, you met me beating up bandits after stealing from them."

"They were bandits." The swordsman said simply. "And, as I recall, I was the one who beat the bandits up." He ruffled her hair. She slapped his hand away.

"You remember?!"

"A little bit. I remember thinking you were like, eight. And with those eyes, maybe a Mazoku, but I only thought that for a second. Then I thought you were jut a lost little kid. I might have been right about that one."

She slapped him again. "I'm not that short. You're just very tall. And you're the lost one."

"But nothing on the Mazoku thing?"

"I didn't think it deserved to be dignified with a reply."

"Maybe, maybe not. You still look very young for your age." His eyes narrowed as they looked her over closely, suspiciously. She flushed, not sure whether or not to stand there or to turn away or to hit him. The last option sounded the safest.

"I'm very youthful. When you look fifty at thirty, you'll be envying me."

"But, isn't your hair white?"

"Temporarily." She slapped him with a shoe. A worn boot to be exact. Gourry stared at her.

"Where did you get that?"

"It's mine. One of my old ones." She slipped it back into her cloak.

"Okay. Why do you still have it?"

"It's still good. Sort of. Good to hit you with anyway." The girl nodded sagely, the man's nod was more tentative.

"Do you have to use a boot?"

"What would you prefer, Gourry?"

"Just, something…softer?"

"Like I'm going to go easy on you! But, maybe, I'll find something else. How do you feel about slippers?"

"Eh. I guess they're alright for keeping your feet warm."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"I really like the ones that are like bunnies. I used to have a pair back home."

"From now on, I'm going to carry around some slippers. And I will beat you with them. I'm sure you won't understand why, but I'd like to think in that pea-sized brain of yours, you might have some dim comprehension of why, and remember this moment."

"My brother had some too, but they were plain blue. My grandmother and my aunt would always send us some for Yule Day. I don't know why though, we never really needed them."

She sighed. "That's nice Gourry."

He beamed at her. "I thought so too. It's the thought that counts, right?"

"If you say so."

"So, from now on, you're going to hit me with a slipper?"

Out came the boot. Murder was clear on Lina's face. "Later. I think we'll stick with the boot."

Gourry swallowed. "When can we switch to slippers?"

"When fishmen fly, Gourry, when fishmen fly."