Author note: I don't really want this chapter to officially be part of What Innocence Is Left but I didn't want to upload it separately either because I just did it for a laugh. I thought it may be of some amusement though so here it is- add on chapter.

We may enjoy the idea of Lucien smut but, really, I'm not sure how romantic a man he is. This version is not much of a gentleman with Matia the next day, but nor is she the lady.

-.-

Matia awoke next to the Imperial Speaker. There's a sentence she'd never imagined. She'd intended to get back to the Sanctuary during dark, making it easier to pass unseen foregoing the need for disguise and lies. But it had been so damn nice just lying comfortable and she'd felt so sleepy afterwards. Apparently she had slept most of the night, looking at how much the candles had burned down. Lucien was still asleep. Matia thought it strange to see him so, guarded and in control as he usually was. His hair was messy and mostly come loose and she smirked a little; he was far less intimidating like this.

Smiling at the memories of the previous day, she slipped out of bed and quietly padded out to the main room in search of a drink, pulling on her shirt on the way. She found a flagon of water and poured some into her wine cup from the night before. Grimacing at the taste of stale wine first thing in the morning, she sat down and drank until she began to feel a bit fresher. She couldn't quite believe it wasn't all a dream, it was a bizarre situation. Her mood was almost giddy, though. She'd learnt a lot, and had a hell of a good time learning, and to be feeling positive about the whole idea of sex at all was a good reason to smile.

Her general icky state put a bit of a damper on it though. It could be messier than she'd known. She shifted in the chair uncomfortably, longing for a bath. She heard movement and crossed her legs as Lucien appeared through the doorway. Normally she might have said something cute or witty or just honest, but the fiend had only put on some bottoms and still looked enticingly unkempt. The whole situation was not a familiar one in any way which made Matia uncharacteristically awkward and, apparently, shut off part of her brain. With no ability to form new thoughts at the moment she simply voiced the one currently floating around up there. "My mouth tastes like shit."

"As charming as ever. Good morning to you too, darling." Lucien's expression was one of slightly playful acquiescence, a return to sarcasm being the only course of action now it appeared the sweet girl from the night before was gone.

Matia was defensive. She didn't usually mind banter but she was out of her comfort zone. "Well it does. Doesn't yours?"

Lucien crossed the room to the alchemy bench and tried to stop his tone from being too eyebrow-raising. "Not to the same extent as you, I'd wager, my dear sister."

The girl's eyes widened after a few moments. "O-oh."

He threw her a bag of mint leaves and the girl busied herself with chewing them and pouring more water. Ah, a flustered Listener was better than nothing, the Speaker supposed. "That was slow. Honestly, I expected more from you. I'll let you off due to your still being dumbstruck from your experience with me. A little brainrot is to be expected."

She smiled and laughed genuinely, a warm and honest sound, body language relaxing.

"Will you stay for something to eat? I don't know about you but I'm famished." She was definitely suppressing a smirk as she read the meaning in his phrasing.

"No, I have to get back and prepare for Bravil. I should go before there's too many people out and about." She guzzled the water hungrily and placed the cup down before setting off back to the bedroom.

"You wound me. Am I naught but a common harlot to you?"

From the other room came her voice. "I never said I liked you."

"Well, I didn't have you down as a heartless womaniser. You are full of surprises, Listener." She returned into view, fully dressed all but for her boots and gloves which were discarded in this room, somewhere. Shame, Lucien couldn't help thinking.

She was smiling at their jokes as she found her boots. "So are you. You have been really quite nice to me, Speaker."

"Don't tell anyone."

She chuckled under her breath, placing the boots by the chair before deciding to walk to Lucien. He really had been nice- not a word she would ever associate with the assassin if she hadn't experienced his patient teaching herself. During the night she'd spoken some words of wonder and satisfaction, oh yes, but right now she felt absurdly privileged to have received this unusual treatment. And grateful, odd though that sounded, for she felt a weight was lifted and couldn't have imagined having such an enlightening and thoroughly enjoyable first (well, first proper) time. She touched his arm and tried to prevent herself feeling awkward again. "This was... really nice." She felt too silly saying 'amazing'.

He merely raised an eyebrow at the understatement, probably getting sick of being called 'nice'. When it appeared he wasn't going to say anything, Matia smiled shyly and corrected herself. "Okay, really... really... fun, too." Gods, was he trying to make her cringe?

"You are a quick learner." His words were teasing but his tone only half so, and he held the hand she'd rested on his forearm in both of his. "Are you sure you won't eat, first? It would not be practical if you collapse from exhaustion."

He could be incredibly unsubtle if he tried. She was not sure she could take any more of his insinuations. She'd never had a morning after and didn't know how she should react to comments on her... actions. And she was utterly at a loss as to how to respond to her old superior and colleague in murder holding her hand like a dear sweetheart, inviting her to breakfast half naked, while a filthy montage from the night before still raced through her mind. "Er- yes- sure, I mean. It's getting light." She smiled nervously and pulled away, hurrying to the chair to pull on her boots.

Lucien watched her fumbling with the laces and folded his arms. "You're running away."

"What? No, I have things to do."

"Yes, you are. You're blushing again."

She stood up, boots badly fastened, cheeks indeed slightly pink. "No, I'm just- been running around haven't I? I'll see you soon anyway, I'm sure, business is picking up," she retorted all too quickly.

Lucien was unfazed. "You are odd, Matia. You proposition me with the utmost candour and yet now you are embarrassed?"

"Well- you're drawing attention to it!" she blustered while looking around for something.

"Not at all. If I was, I would say I cannot understand why you would be embarrassed by simply talking like this, considering the positions I've had you in." She gave him a look like he'd just revealed her darkest secret to a room full of people. He did not bother hiding his smirk any more. "It's all right, there's no need to act the blushing bride around me... not any more." He accented the last words like she had committed a grave scandal and he was privy to the knowledge. The effect was highly entertaining.

"You're just being mean now!" Her blustering took on a new vigour as she searched the same locations again. "Ugh, where are my gloves?"

"Mean? Never, Listener. If anything, I wish to commend you on your performance."

"Lucien stop it." Halting to look at him pleadingly, the last words came out on top of something that could have been a chuckle or a sob.

He couldn't stop now. "Oh, don't deny me. I much prefer it when you're pleading with me to not stop."

The sob escaped at this, though it was more a frustrated scream now. "I'm going," she declared, though it was more of a warning since she was still looking around the room more than she was moving towards the exit.

"Your mouth tells a different story to your actions, sister. It is put to better use when not speaking, from my experience-"

"Going!" she interrupted and threw her hands up to stop him saying any more, storming towards the ladder.

Lucien waited until she was halfway up then purred, "Take your time," as he leered after her.

"Ugh!" She sounded like she might burst into tears at that instant. Maybe she would laugh when she was out of view of her tormentor, but for now she screamed and sped up to make a quicker escape.

Yes, a flustered Listener was far better than nothing. The Speaker decided he preferred her when she was squirming for one reason or another.