A/N: Please excuse any errors you see as I am the only one who checks the document after writing it.

Sharp Little Pinpricks

Chapter 8: Breakfast




"Good morning!" Hawke called out, smiling politely at the barkeep as she made her way downstairs and through the somewhat empty tavern. He was much younger than the man working a few hours ago (Hawke would know, she stampeded passed the bar on her way to the ocean), and most definitely handsome with his chiseled jaw-line and almost patrician features. If it weren't for the large smudge of dirt across his cheek and his wrinkled clothing, he would most definitely look out of place in a tavern such as this.

"G'morning, Serah" he replied, a bit taken back by the woman's beaming demeanor. "I take it you slept well?"

Hawke sat down on a stool closest to him and shook her head with a laugh, "Not at all." Sleeping through and waking up to the heated memory of an unsatisfied wet dream is the utmost farthest thing from having a good nights rest. "But, it's a good day today! The sun will soon be high in the sky and the breeze will bring in the fresh scent of—" Hawke inhaled, instantly wishing that she hadn't. "…body odor and vomit."

"The name is Digby. I'm the tavern owner's eldest son." He smiled in a way that was both bashful and charming before wiping his hands on his cloth apron and extending one out towards her. Hawke's infectiously upbeat mood seemed to be making his lackluster one a bit brighter.

She shook his hand firmly, "You can call me Hawke."

"Alright, Hawke," he said, feeling the word out in the mouth, "is there anything I can get you this morning?"

Marian strummed her fingers on the countertop in thought, "How about some eggs, a bit of baked bread, and some fruit? Oh! Do you have jam," she gushed, "I love jam!"

"We do have jam here, yes," Digby laughed. "We have it all if you have the coin." Hawke placed two silvers on the counter and the barkeep grew wide-eyed. "That's a bit much. A drink here is only three copper. So two silver coins are…"

Both slender hands rose in protest, "Then please keep the extra under a tab. My companion and I will be here for a few more days."

"You're here with someone?"

"I am," Hawke replied curiously. "She's a little taller than average, curvy, wears a sky blue bandana? I'm sure you've noticed a woman like her wandering around—"

"What's that supposed to mean," Isabela asked. She made her way down the stairs and over towards a stool right next to Hawke, crossing one long leg over the other to show off not only her thighs, but her recently oiled boots, it's dark brown leather a pleasant contrast to her tanned skin.

Marian swiveled herself around and shrugged nonchalantly, "I just meant that you're a hard person to miss what with such gorgeousness radiating from your very pores."

"Ooo," Isabela chuckled, feeling a little bit more pleased with herself, "good save."

"I thought so too."

"So, what are you going to eat?"

"Eggs, fruit, and bread—with jam!" Hawke clapped her hands happily, practically squirming out of her stool.

"…I sleep next to you stark raving naked night after night…and jam is the thing that dampens your knickers? Ugh, this world is twisted is so many awful ways."

Digby nodded his hellos at Isabela to snag her attention, his eyes landing on her generous cleavage before turning away with cherry cheeks. "A-And what will you be having?"

Isabela's keen eye caught his quick peek and her smile grew. She decided to sit up as straight as possible to push her chest out even further. "…I don't know," she said, her tone lowering to a gentle purr. "Do you have anything particularly…tasty to eat, handsome?"

Hawke withheld herself from grumbling, wrestling with intensely private thoughts and trying to sound as conversational as possible when finally opening her mouth to speak. "Just get her the same thing as me."

"Of course," Digby said, looking to Marian briefly before switching back to the pirate. "H-how would you like your eggs?"

"Unfertilized." Isabela winked one honey eye at him, adding more playful mischief to her already nerve wracking appearance before glancing at Hawke. To see the warrior disturbed in any way incited unease as well as curiosity in the rogue…and maybe a bit of guilty pleasure.

"Maker," Hawke chastised, swatting the woman on her bicep. There was no mistaking the splendor of Isabela's character, nor the carving of a physique just as attractively molded as her wit was. Yet as with anything, there were hidden layers to her sarcasm, most of it readdressed emotions from a woman who used to sitting in a position of careless freedom. But Digby didn't know of Isabela or her humor, and if Hawke didn't put this young man out of his misery soon, she feared that he might run a nose bleed and faint from sheer loss of blood.

Digby's eyes widened and his cheeks grew darker, "I m-meant if you'd like them boiled or f-fried."

Hawke threw her head back and sighed, the silvery highlights within the blonde fall of gently curling hair gleaming sharply in the muted tavern lighting. "Don't mind Isabela, she's a terrible tease. We'll both have our eggs boiled. Thank you, Digby."

Isabela chuckled happily, turning to steal a look at Hawke. "And what are we having to drink, mum?"

"Water, dear."

"What," Isabela deadpanned. "We're sitting at a bar and you're not going to order any sort of alcohol?"

"It's good for the body to have water or a light tea in the morning." Hawke seemed genuinely confused, "What's wrong with that?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong with it," Isabela mused. "Not ordering a drink in a tavern is like asking a whore for a hug. It makes no sense."

Hawke pinched the area between her eyes tiredly, soon looking back up to the young man with an apologetic expression, "Fine. One water and a whiskey if you don't mind, Digby."

The young barkeep nodded his head quickly, catching another glance at Isabela before turning on his heels to go gather the ingredients needed to cook.

"Oh, he's cute," Isabela said blatantly, tilting her head and watching the young man's bum as he walked away. Hawke turned her gaze back and forth between the kitchen and Isabela.

"He's also almost half your age."

"That just means he'd be very…spirited in bed."

"And that he'd probably last a good three minutes in all that spirit..."

"If there is one thing that I've learned, it's that age does not determine experience."

Hawke raised her eyebrow and couldn't keep the slight look of distaste from her face, "You do realize that just made you sound absolutely terrible, don't you?"

"I've just noticed," Isabela scowled. "And I didn't mean it like that, you pervert. If it involves animals or kids I'm not interested. Although…what do you think sex on a horse would feel like as you gallop away?"

Hawke groaned, "It's only morning and I'm starving." Frustrated would be a mild word for what Hawke was feeling, because she was 'frustrated' on so many levels. Having a nice little chat about sex was not helping any of the matters. "Do we really have to start talking about this now?"

"I'd imagine you'd be quite sore afterwards…"

"…aaaand you're not listening. Brilliant."

"Mm," Isabela's eyes seemed to glaze over, dark lashes falling to shadow her gaze. "Legs spread wide, straddling his hips as the horse speeds off, its riders bouncing in rhythm with its powerful stride. He bucks into her tight, little sleeve and she groans, rubbing and grinding herself against his manhood, the evidence of her excitement glistening just underneath them, slicking the very saddle they ride on…"

Hawke rolled her eyes, placing an elbow on the counter and resting her cheek in her hand, "Then because the saddle is slippery, they both fall off and break their neck. The End."

Isabela gave Hawke an unimpressed looked, "You are such a bore sometimes. Not to mention that if that's how you end your stories, you'd be a terrible friend-fiction writer."

"Whatever I may be, just don't forget to wipe your stool off after you get up."

After several more moments of bickering, Digby finally remerged with both plates of food. He set it them down, one in front of each woman before swiftly turning to leave again. Isabela laughed at his awkward manner, leaning into her food eagerly before starting to devour. The breakfast that he provided was delicious and both women found themselves almost inhaling it all due to the absurd hunger that they felt. Truly, it felt like the first time Hawke had eaten in a year.

When all was said and done Isabela turned around, leaned against the bar (a favorite position of hers), and patted her tummy contently. She smiled at the blonde, noting that, oddly enough, she was mostly composed of a riot of abundant coils of hair today, giving Hawke a bit more feminine charm than usual. Normally there was no time to preen and present themselves as anything other than what they were, but seeing Hawke like this now made Isabela's eyebrow twitch—a tick that only came to light under Hawke's presence as of late.

"Tell me, Champion…are you ready to start the day?"

Hawke stretched, happy to finally have food in her stomach. She nodded her head, gathering a mass of that golden hair and tying it up into a messy bun that exposed the length of her long neck. Isabela's brow twitched again.

"Let's go, Captain."

A/N: Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews!