"With that hair, you look like a man yourself. It's obvious who's the most womanly," Sophia said in her calmly cutting way. She snuggled Raki's right arm more tightly to her chest.

"You're the one with arms like a man you big plodding cow! I've got graceful carriage and feminine style!" Noel shouted up into her longer haired rival's face from her matching position on Raki's left side.

He tried to lean back out of the catfight, but could make no progress. They'd linked their arms with his and were basically dragging him along at this point. Though he outweighed both of them together, he looked more like a condemned prisoner being escorted to the gallows than a man on a "romantic" stroll with the two warriors.

The grimly resigned look on his face did nothing to dispel that impression.

"Well, if that's even true it's the only feminine thing about you. You certainly don't have a feminine figure," was Sophia's snide answer as she ran her free hand suggestively over her chest. "Just another way you fall short of me."

Hearing Noel spluttering with outrage, Ilena knew it was time to step in.

Again.

"Noel, why don't you go scout ahead for a while?" Ilena interjected, making it clear with her tone that she wasn't making a request. "And Sophia, why don't you check our back-trail?"

The two paused to glare at each other before disengaging from Raki and head off to carry out their orders.

Noel glared at least. Sophia's expression was more of a smirk. While she probably couldn't win a physical battle with Noel, Sophia was a superior verbal combatant and had enjoyed a recent string of victories.

Raki waited until they were both out of earshot before sighing in relief "Thanks, Ilena. I've got to say, more and more I wish they'd just get it over with and fall into each other's hungry arms, you know?"

Ilena gave him a dry look. "Don't let them hear you say that," she cautioned him, while privately conceding he might be right. It wouldn't be the first time she'd seen two warriors use belligerence to cover mutual attraction.

"What, do you think I'm crazy? Anyway, I'm just trying to avoid a repeat of the bathing incident."

Ilena could acknowledge intellectually the awkwardness of his encounter. Warriors were mostly trained out of the nudity taboos of their childhoods. They weren't supposed to think of themselves as women, but rather as living weapons. That being said, they weren't particularly shy about anyone else's nudity either. One of Noel and Sophia's recent contests had involved seeing who could get Raki to react the most when they approached him while he was bathing in a stream. His unclad state was deemed useful in determining who was winning.

He'd managed to escape unnoticed during their argument over who would scrub his back first.

"I had no idea Clare had such a mean streak. I mean, if Little Sister was going to get them riled up, why did she have to point them at me in the process?"

"Mmh. Maybe she wanted to see if Big Sister would protect you?" Ilena had noticed that while Teresa seemed to find the competition over Raki quite amusing, the elder Clare did not.

Ilena hadn't much experience in judging male/female relationships, but she'd suspected for some time that Raki's feelings for his "Big Sister" went beyond the realm of brotherly affection. His attempt to put the relationship in that light was likely a case of settling for what he could get.

Judging from hints Ilena had observed, Clare might be more passionate than even Noel, but was certainly one of the least outwardly expressive warriors ever. Even if she reciprocated Raki's feelings she wouldn't be able to admit it to herself, let alone him.

Strangely, this bit of irrational internal conflict helped to reassure Ilena that Clare was still a warrior. Awakened Beings seemed to be fairly at peace with themselves, if murderous and cannibalistic towards everyone else. By contrast, Ilena had noticed that the most powerful, most highly ranking warriors were also the least stable.

For example, Priscilla could change in moments from a sweet, soft-spoken girl into a raving, slobbering lunatic.

Noel and Sophia would compete over anything, from a title to the attentions of a man neither was interested in, purely for the sake of beating the other.

Teresa had completely destroyed her life, sacrificing her position and becoming a hunted outlaw for the sake of an unrelated child she'd barely known.

Only Ilena herself was immune to this trend. She certainly wouldn't make such a major sacrifice for someone who was barely an acquaintance.

But while that inner conflict was a good sign, it wasn't proof in and of itself that Clare was still a warrior.

"Pfft. If you're gonna be like that, I'll go keep Priscilla company."

Ilena noted that Raki looked more depressed than offended by her probe. Lengthening his strides for a moment, he quickly caught up to the current Number Two.

It was just as well. Priscilla had been looking down for some time now. Ilena recognized the fact, but cheering up a depressed warrior wasn't really one of her skills. If an explanation or a scolding wouldn't do the job, she was lost for an alternative.

Raki on the other hand seemed to make a habit of befriending everyone he met. He'd spent hours speaking to each member of their little traveling group, especially Priscilla. Ilena admitted to herself that he knew the girl better than she did at this point. He always seemed to know just what to say to her like he'd known her for years.

As wary as she was of his motives, Ilena rather wished her own handler was more like Raki. Even Teresa had warmed up to him a bit.

"How's it going?" Raki asked, putting a friendly hand on Priscilla's shoulder. He wiggled her shoulder armor testingly. "Is my patch job giving you any trouble?"

She looked down shyly and shook her head.

"Come on. Tell me what's bothering you," he urged gently.

After a long pause Priscilla whispered, "It's just... I try so hard. Why does Miss Clare hate me?"

Raki put his arm across her shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug. "Oh, Priscilla. She doesn't hate you."

"Yes she does," Priscilla insisted quietly. She wasn't crying yet, but it didn't sound like that point was far off.

"It's not you," Raki told her. "You just remind her of someone who hurt her. She knows you aren't the same person, but she hasn't gotten over it yet."

Ilena's best theory up to this point had been that Clare's enmity toward Priscilla was a product of the fear of failure. If Clare had been sent to recruit Teresa then Priscilla was the only potential threat to the rogue Number One.

Or possibly she was making a show of dislike to drive Priscilla to try to win her approval as part of a psychological ploy to recruit the current Number Two.

A coincidence of appearance had never occurred to Ilena as a motive and seemed rather implausible.

"She never wants to talk to me," Priscilla went on as fi he hadn't said anything. "She's always looking at Miss Teresa. How do I make her look at me?"

Wryly Raki murmured, "If you find out, let me know."

"What?" Distracted by her own misery, Priscilla didn't seem to have heard him.

"Nothing. It's just going to take some time," he told her, leaving a comforting arm around her shoulders.

After walking in silence for a few minutes a less subdued Priscilla spoke again. "Miss Noel and Miss Sophia were going to wash your back because they want you to like them. Would it help if I washed Miss Clare?"

Raki froze in mid-step at the question. "If you wash Clare...?" he repeated to himself in a dreamy tone.

"Raki?" Priscilla asked the motionless man in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah," He answered brightly, falling back into step with the much shorter warrior. He wiped at his face. "I get these nose-bleeds sometimes, but it's nothing to worry about."

"So do you thing it would help if I tried to wash Miss Clare?"

His brief internal struggle was obvious to Ilena even though she couldn't see his face.

Regretfully he answered, "No, I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea at all." He patted the disappointed warrior on the back reassuringly.

"It's a nice thought," he told her with great sincerity in his voice, "a very nice thought, but we're going to have to wait till she warms up to you some more before I can see that happen."

He corrected himself immediately, "I mean, before you should try that."

A brilliantly obvious idea struck Ilena. A simple way to potentially answer her question about Clare had been staring her in the face.

Convincing the others that they should all take a quick bath that evening while Raki was preparing dinner was easy enough. They'd set up camp for the night near a small waterfall with a pool that was practically ideal for the purpose. Noel's scouting had for once accomplished an end beyond getting her away from Sophia before she snapped.

All the warriors drove their swords into the ground near the water's edge. It was more of a habit than a serous precaution, since none of them sensed any yoki other than their own within miles. As they began to strip out of their armor and clothing the only potential threat they faced was being peeked at while nude.

Since two of them would actively welcome that at this point and the others were totally indifferent to the prospect, it wasn't a matter that gave Ilena any concern. The only non-warrior, Little Sister, might be of a different frame of mind, but after the headaches that her meddling had caused Ilena could bear the thought of the girl's embarrassment with great equanimity.

Peeking was more or less Ilena's objective anyway. The reason she had proposed this little exercise was to verify that the elder Clare still bore the warrior's stigmata. Besides reverting to their human coloration, a warrior who Awakened lost that terrible unhealing wound.

Given the yoma's shape-shifting abilities, the presence of that most painful sign of the Organization's handiwork might not definitively prove that Clare hadn't Awakened, but it's absence would prove that she had.

Totally naked now, Ilena walked out into the water to the depth of her mid-thigh. Because of that same stigmata few warriors enjoyed submerging themselves. The stitches kept their bodies together, but little more and it was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling to have water sloshing inside your body cavity.

Noel and Sophia were cleaning up somewhere behind and to her left, staying close enough to trade verbal jabs at each other's appearance.

Teresa and Little Sister were on the far edge of the pool from the quarreling pair. Clare was the last one into the water, but with Priscilla only a few steps ahead, Ilena's view was completely blocked.

The very fact that Clare entered the water was nearly proof that she was still marked, but Ilena wanted to see that proof with her own eyes.

Clare did not oblige her.

Clare seemed determined to keep her back to Ilena when Priscilla ceased blocking her sight line. Without being truly obvious in her intentions there was no way for Ilena to do anything about that. All she could think to do was drag out her own ablutions as long as possible while waiting for an opportunity.

Since she had the longest hair of anyone present she was able to make that look plausible, but she was dimly aware of Noel and Sophia finishing up and slipping out the water before she'd gotten so much as a glimpse at Clare's front.

Surreptitiously watching as Teresa and Little Sister made their way to shore, Ilena came to the startling conclusion that Clare wasn't actually trying to hide her front from Ilena. She was trying to hide her back from Teresa.

Ilena couldn't imagine why this would be so, since there was nothing remarkable about Clare's back beyond a number of scars probably inflicted before she became a hybrid. Given the way she angled her body to keep her front towards Teresa without ever looking in her direction, Ilena could think of no more reasonable explanation. Clare's washing motions were almost mechanical and certainly not the least bit provocative.

Nor had she shown signs of that kind of interest in Teresa anyway.

Ilena concluded that her best chance now was to proceed to the shore and position herself while dressing in such a way as to have a good view of Clare when she came out to get her own clothes.

She was halfway out the water when she heard masculine shouting coming from the camp.

Noel and Sophia were nowhere in sight but Ilena was exasperated to realize that their armor and clothing still was.

Out of the corner of her eye Ilena saw Clare streak past, snatching up her sword on the run and bounding straight for Raki's cries. Feeling the situation was likely much less serious than that, Ilena still ignored her own clothing and followed suit. While she wasn't going to cut the troublesome pair, if her suspicions were correct, she was seriously considering using the flat of her blade on them.

There were limits to the ridiculous behavior she was willing to tolerate, especially from her juniors.

She came up behind the suddenly motionless deserter, pausing when the were shoulder to shoulder to see what had so transfixed her.

Near the cook fire, and over his vociferous protests, a naked Noel and Sophia were trying to take off Raki's pants.

"...have to get the answer from your other head," she heard Noel saying.

Ilena jerked her eyes back to Clare as she heard the deserter's sword hilt creak in her now white knuckled hand. Judging from the vein visible pulsing on Clare's forehead Ilena considered it a strong possibility that she would have to step in to save her junior's lives.

When she heard a quiet question come from behind her, Ilena discovered that the situation was even worse than she'd thought.

"Are you picking on Raki?"

Ilena felt herself stop breathing as Priscilla slowly walked out into the clearing, sword in hand.

"Are you picking on Raki?" Priscilla asked again, her sword hand shivering in time with the quaver in her voice. A voice that was taking on an inhuman timbre.

Oh damn.

She wasn't drawing dangerously on her yoki yet, but Ilena wasn't reassured. If her control broke, Priscilla could go from whispering to shrieking through fangs in a heartbeat.

For the first time in her life Ilena found herself wishing for an undetected yoma ambush. If a mob of the them burst into the clearing within the next few seconds the situation would be enormously improved. An attack by anything short of the Creatures of the Abyss would be a welcome distraction at this point.

Noel and Sophia weren't touching Raki anymore. Instead they were backing away from Priscilla, their progress slowed by the way they kept falling down and trying to hide behind each other. They were, perhaps unconsciously, doing their best to look as nonthreatening as possible.

Ilena's tension increased as Clare's posture went from expressing a barely restrained fury to a deadly cold resolve.

Amazingly, Raki looked completely calm when he walked out and stopped Priscilla with a gentle touch on her shoulder. "Priscilla. I'm okay."

As she blinked up at him and repressed her yoki, Ilena started breathing again. "Really?" the Organization's Number Two asked with the voice of a girl once more.

"Really," he assured her.

Then he stepped back and hurriedly started to refasten his pants. Once that was done, he seemed to hesitate before speaking again.

"There's just one thing..." he trailed off.

Now that the danger was past, the tension seemed to be catching up to him. His hands started trembling and his gaze was fixed away from all the warriors. His face twisted slightly with emotion while he appeared to be fighting to keep a calm expression.

"What's wrong Raki?" Priscilla asked him worriedly.

"Can you all please put some clothes on now?" he plaintively asked as his nose started to gush blood.

Author's Note

I'm trying to find the right tone for this fic but I don't pretend I know what I'm doing yet. I was going for something sit-com ish this time. I hope it works okay.

I took much longer than I expected getting this update out, but I have a reasonable excuse: Bulbous boufont, blubber, macadamia... gazebo.

Sorry if it isn't quite worth the wait.

I've received plentiful confirmation that me and extemporaneous remarks don't go together. I know what I mean, but if I don't take at least a week to look things over , I don't know how someone who lives outside my head will interpret what I actually wrote. My foot has a distressing tendency to work itself into my mouth. Sometimes up to the knee.

For what it's worth, if I have unintentionally given offence, I apologize.