Three Stooges (an interlude)

"HAH!"

"Quit pushin'!"

"Whatever that smell is, it's violating my senses something awful.."

"Den stop puttin' ja nose in mah arm pit, Fruiteh."

"Oh, disugsting!"

"Raija, you've got a mate an' Per's taken, now stop flirtin'.."

"I never liked you."

"Shaddap moocow!"

"Sshhhhhhh!"

All at once, their scuffling and shoving came to an end.  The soft pitter patter of feet and shuffling of a much larger pair passed by their closed door.  All three men held their breath, despite one of their trio not needing to.  Three pairs of wide eyes were focussed on the wedge of light that shone from the other side of the door and the shadows of feet.  Grantaire bit his lip, the very tip of his snout taunting him with a powerful incoming sneeze, but he stayed strong and thought of the Mulgore plains.  Raija was perched in the rafters, clinging to the boards as he attempted to become one with them as a hiding source.  Last there was Peredhel, on the far side of the room, pressed firmly into a corner and keeping his eyes narrowed in case a curious glance inside the room would spot his glowing gaze.

Beyond the door, a conversation was taking place.  Two women and a Troll.

"Did you hear that?"

"Does pregnancy make you crazy, too?"

"Oh, Melli, of course not."

"Not hearin' aneht'ing, girlie."

"I thought we were meeting them here."

"I thought so, too.  Maybe they're late.  And they complain that women stall.."

Grantaire bit down on his knuckle to avoid a loud chuckle.  From above, Raija beared his teeth in warning to keep quiet.

"It awrigh', girlie.  If aneht'ing, ah could smell Jaja a mile 'way."

Both shamans set accusing stares on Raija, who became as still as rocks.  As always, the rogue was heavily "perfumed" by peacebloom, strong enough that could be detected by patrons a floor below.  But the Tavern was packed; maybe it would be overlooked.

"Put your nose to the test, Tash'ki.  You smell him?"

A deadly pause.

"Not at all, sorreh."

Raija could almost see the smirk in his mate's voice, but the blatant lie was enough for the women folk.  Or at least, one of them.

"Oh well.  We can wait upstairs, I suppose."

"Joo want meh to getchu a drink?"

"I'll have Darkmoon, thanks.  Something non-booze for Deru."

"Sure."

Clop clop clop of the women ascending the stairs.  The shadows of feet passed by the door and the sneaky men strained their ears.  Tash'ki was definitely downstairs and talking with the goblins.  In the cabin over his head, Raija swung upside down to talk with his comrades better, latching on with just his legs. "We gotta do somet'in'.  Who tellin' dem we meetin'?!"

The dark figure emerged from the corner, crossing quickly to the wall where Grantaire stood hiding. "Wasn't me."

"Do you ever bathe, you punk?" Grantaire mumbled. "You reek of peacebloom, kid."

Raija frowned at the two, swinging his body up to grasp the wood with his arms, releasing his legs and dropping silently to the floor.  "Shuttin' ja fat face," the Troll grumbled in return.  Peredhel pressed his ear to the wall, then signaled for the others to be quiet as Tash'ki meandered up to their level, then once again.  Above, they heard the Stormsong sisters greet and thank the rogue, resuming chatter.  A mutual look was exchanged between them: they'd make a break for it.  Grantaire reached for the door knob and swung it open and made to rush, when Derusilla's voice rang out.

"This is Per's headband.  What's it doing here, I wonder?"

His hands touched his hair and this time, the accusations were silently thrown at him.  Peredhel clenched his fists; dammit! He had taken his headband off for a while to try a different hairstyle and completely forgot about it.  There was nothing they could do now except run.

"No idea, sis."

"Forgettin' somet'ing downstairs, girlies.  Bein' right back."

In a frenzy, the hideaways clamored to rush out the door.  They were grossly unsuccessful, all three trying to wedge out the door at the same time.  While a truly comical sight, they were not spared Tash'ki's false innocence again as the Troll paused at the bottom of the stairs to witness this.

A casual throat clearing later, and Raija's face paled.  He was trying to escape from under the Death Knight and shaman, and was caught under Peredhel's dress.  The blue-haired crossdresser had found himself unfortunately wedged against Grantaire, who was pressed between the doorway and Peredhel in an awkwardly suggestive position.  To the astonished onlooker, it would appear the trio were in the midst of some naughty shenanigans, but Tash'ki knew better.

Smirking at the caught-red-handed expressions, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Feelin' 'urt, Jaja."

Spluttering, "Kiki, ah explainin'--"

"I t'ink dis explainin' enough."

"Kiki, wai', rilleh--"

"Dinnit know joo were into necro-feel-yaaa an' steak, Jaja."

"Babeh, dis nah wha' it lookin' like!"

"Sure lookin' like ja broadenin' ja horizons."

Peredhel cringed, the footfalls of his wife and her smug sister stopping directly behind Tash'ki.  Under him, Raija was near close to bursting into childish tears, but the effect was nothing but laughable when he was poking out from under a dress.   Grantaire coughed awkwardly, pushing at Peredhel's shoulders. "You could, heh, get off me now."

"What's going on down here?!" Derusilla peered around the rogue brat. "Have you been here this entire time?"

Mellinda set her hands on her hips. "This would be considered incest, Ahanu."

"Hey, ain't what it looks like.."

"Didn't you give up man-hunting a while ago, Per?"

"I hate you."

Tash'ki was the first to step forward, stooping down to grab his blubbering mate and haul him to his feet.  Without Raija semi-supporting him, Peredhel stumbled forward, Grantaire following suit and distancing themselves.  While Raija tried to convince a soothing Tash'ki that he was not involved in any sexual affairs with the two other men, Peredhel went to greet his wife.

"Er.. hello, love."

"Hello to you, too! What's going on, hm? You do know that Grantaire is Melli's, right?"

".. cute."

"What was all this about, anyway?" Mellinda shoved the Tauren semi-playfully.  Grantiare grabbed his fiance in a tight one-armed hug in retaliation, grinning at her.

"We were enjoyin' a boy's night out, darling.  Dunno who snitched on us, though, heh."

Derusilla lofted an eyebrow. "Beyond a 'boy's night out' I think."

Beside her, Peredhel cringed against Raija's unmanly sobs and sniffles.  And he was supposed to be the "sissy" around here. "All it was, love.  We were just planning a few things that, well, we didn't you to know about yet."

The warlock giggled and smiled. "That's alright, Duti.  Sorry to barge in, then!"

"It's alight, darling," Grantaire quipped. "Wonder who told, though."

The rest of the evening went flawlessly.  Raija was suitably comforted, Grantaire would suffer jokes pertaining to jungle fever, and Peredhel would surely be facing Tauren-related jokes in the future.

A continent away, Theekuna tied a silk ribbon into a bow around her pet rat's tail, a mischievous grin plastered on her face.

"I'm smarter than they think, huh Algernon?" Squeak, squeak.  The Orc girl let out a shrill giggle.

"Yeah.. next time, it'll be better."