There will never be enough fan fiction about this book. It's so amazing. And I had way too much fun writing this.

Characters belong to Chris Wooding.

Aelthar stared at her, his face blank and emotionless.

"How long have you felt this way, exactly?" he asked, careful to make sure his voice didn't shake. She sniffed and he saw the color rise in her extremely pale cheeks. He longed to pull the tangle of black hair out of her face. She seemed to want to hide behind it. He didn't blame her. Pulling him into this broom closet was mortifying enough.

"…a few days." She said finally. When he didn't react she rolled her eyes and pushed past him, trying to leave the tiny room. He caught her by the arm and spun her around to look at him. She didn't do much spinning though due to the confined space. In fact, she sent a couple glass bottles of a harsh smelling marble cleaner crashing to the floor. He knew the pressure of his fingers might be a little much for her, as well. But at the moment, he didn't care. He needed to hear her say it again.

"Please…say it again." Not only was he inwardly horrified at the soft tone of his voice but he was even more horrified that he used the word "please". The Phaerie Lords before him were rolling in their jewel encrusted caskets.

"What will you give me if I do?" She asked, a watery smile pulling to corners of her mouth up. So that's how she wanted to play?

"Poison…"He purred. "Anything you desire…" Her hand came up and for a moment he thought she was going to slap him. Instead, however, she reached up on tiptoes and touched his cheek. He wished she could fully explore his face with her thin fingers, but he was far too tall (or was she too short?). He cursed both their heights and bent slightly so she could have a better reach.

"Aelthar… you're trembling…" She said. He smiled sadly down at her and sighed. It was nice to hear her say his name.

"Please say it again, Poison." He asked. Her bottom lip quivered. Was she going to cry? She never cried. That was something that Poison of Gull never ever did.

"How do you know I'm not trying to trick you into something?" She asked. Her thumb traced his bottom lip as the fingers on her left hand pushed under his fringe and smoothed out the worried creases on his pale forehead.

"I've already offered you anything you want. And besides, if you were trying to trick me, you wouldn't have told me."

"True, and I probably wouldn't do this either." Her fingers curled into his shirt and she yanked him further down to her. Their lips met.

It was one of those moments in which, as cliché as it sounds, the world slowed down and seemed to disappear. There was no Hierophant, there was no Scriddle, and there were no separate realms. There were only two people who needed each other. Two people who would only ever admit as much in the confines of a broom closet.

Poison's fingers left his shirt and tangled themselves into his fiery hair. He noted that her fingers were cold against his scalp. He had to bend even more to get a good grip on her waist and he pulled her against him. It was too much, the feel of her, so small and tense in his arms. He never wanted to let go. She sighed softly against his mouth and he thought he heard his name.

Curse them, curse them all if they can't understand this…he thought.

Suddenly, a bright light was filling the small space. Poison jumped away from him but he was too stunned by the look on his secretary's face to let go of her waist. Scriddle stared at the pair, his lips curling up to show is pointed teeth. He looked disgusted.

"And I thought we would find you strangling her…" He said. Aelthar caught the edge in the half breed's voice but Poison seemed oblivious. She looked like a caged animal who had just realized it had to chew its own leg off to escape. Her small frame trembled with tension. He knew it would add more damage, but he couldn't stop his own fingers as they pushed a strand of inky hair behind her ear. He heard her suck in a breath at his touch.

"Scriddle, would you be so kind to give the human and I another moment." He made sure to make it sound like a command.

"Her friends are looking for her." Said Scriddle, pulling a face that clearly indicated his discomfort.

"Tell them that Poison and I are negotiating. She'll be with them in a moment." Scriddle huffed but obeyed, closing the closet door behind him. Aelthar thought he heard him growl something about "ridiculous human negotiation customs".

Aelthar turned to her, but she wouldn't look at him.

"I love you. Are you happy now?" She muttered, her hair shielding her face again. "That's what you wanted to hear. Now you can use it against me and I can assume that you have mutual feelings and use those against you and we can get on with our lives…or what's left of them. Happy?"

"Not remotely." He sighed and patted her head in a condescending way. "I will never understand you, Poison. And I don't really think I wish to." She turned to him then and grinned. He grinned in return and she slapped him on the arm.

"C'mon, my lord. Let's go make sure my friends haven't destroyed the castle looking for me." She said cheerfully. She opened the door to the closet partially when he caught her by the back of her dress. She turned back around and looked at him' eyebrows raised.

"We should seriously consider negotiating more often." He whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. She laughed softly and then disappeared out the door, leaving him alone in the broom closet.