Dear Diary,

Interesting day. Not, like, 'interesting times' Chinese curse interesting. Not like last week. But, interesting.

It started out with me apologizing to Saffron, because I'm not quite stupid enough to risk my own self-destructive impulses if I kept something from her and then had to spend two days away from her.

We stood there, her immaculate as always, fixing the worst of my uniform's flaws, when I muttered, "Uh... Saff?"

Without missing a beat, she said, "Out with it, Goof. Rip the bandage off."

"I've seriously considered having sex with someone else."

She just shook her head, bemused, as she fixed my shirt collar floof to properly floof over my jacket collar. "Someone I know?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Who?"

I looked at the ceiling, with her batting the back of my head to get it out of the way of her work. "duBois."

That got her to look at me, quirking one eyebrow up. "Marie notwithstanding, isn't he a little old for you?"

"Us. But yeah, not right now. Like, as a retirement thing?"

"A retirement thing," she deadpanned.

"I mean, he's been a really great teacher, and by the time he's ready to retire I figure we'll probably be like thirty, so we'll be old too, but still young enough in comparison to be hot enough to impress an old guy, right?"

She snorted a little, I'm not sure why. Probably just blowing some of my stream of consciousness back out so she could get oxygen to her brain. "You keep using that word, 'us'."

"Well, yeah, I first thought about it before we got together, but y'know, we're an item now, and you've got looks and mad bedroom skills rather than just running on dubious enthusiasm," here I paused, chuckling, "heh. Dubious duBois enthusiasm," then I shook my head and finished, "so yeah, threesome us sounds better as a retirement gift thing, right?"

She just lowered her face into my chest and shook; I figured out they were stifled guffaws rather than sobs when my shirt didn't get wet. She pulled back, "That... is such a you idea. Nobody less goof than you would even consider it. Not least of all because most Heroes only 'retire' if they're too maimed to even get to the field, let alone survive there."

"So, you think we ought to just pounce on him when we hit thirty, as a kind of pre-retirement thing?"

She sighed, "Most Heroes never retire, because they typically wind up dead, not maimed."

"Oh, we're definitely setting a deadline then, because, y'know, necrophilia? Yech."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She looked up at me, one eyebrow lifted the slightest bit, her dizzying intellect going full blast, no doubt trying to come up with a single reason to not yeet me into my own armoire and run as fast as she could. After a moment like that, during which my hands wandered of their own accord to her ass, because fondling isn't penetration, and we're both fond of ass fondling, she blinked once, slowly, then said, in a tone I wouldn't argue with if my life depended on it, "Twenty five. Half-Bag tend to live longer than any but Immortal Bag, but we still generally age a little quicker than humans. By thirty I'll probably look more like a forty year old human woman."

My brain couldn't process her statement well, so I settled on responding, "What'll I look like by then?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll look exactly the same. Getting old implies growth, maturation, changing in any meaningful way whatsoever."

"Hey!"

"That's not a complaint. Since you seem intent on staying with me until I get old and gray, I'll be glad to have an indestructible, immortally unchanging lover to help me get up the stairs and get down in bed." She'd finished with my collar, and hooked her arms behind my neck. When I leaned in for a kiss, she pulled away just far enough I stopped and said, "Ah, ah, ah. We've got to get to breakfast. We can't spend any more time in here messing around."

I blinked a little, part of my brain just now catching up to the conversation, "So plan 'duBois Retirement Sexcapade' is a go?"

She sighed, "Just to make sure your poor little overworked brain doesn't misunderstand, I officially agree to your incredibly inappropriate, vulgar, presumptuous," here she paused and smiled up at me, "surprisingly well-intentioned, sweet, and kindhearted plan."

"Oh! What about Marie?"

She winced, a not uncommon reaction when she thought about Marie and intimacy, even after having two happy ending baths under her belt. "We'll certainly have to ask her, I suppose. She shouldn't affect the timing though." When I just raised an eyebrow to ask why, she explained with a simple, "Immortal Bag."

I smiled at her, because she'd fallen for my nefarious scheme. Not the duBois one, honestly I still hadn't processed her not punishing me for even thinking it up, let alone agreeing to it. My current underhanded plan, which had involved getting her talking, then under cover of her brilliant monologue scooping her up so she sat on my crossed arms, occupying her mouth with my own before the word 'Bag' fully left it. I straight up backed us through my door with a crunch, because my left arm objected to opening the door by burning itself to electric ash, and my right hand had all it could handle in the form of Saffron's ass cheek.

She squeaked and squealed, but never once pulled her hands from behind my neck until we arrived at the Dining Hall and the line cleared enough for us to go in.

In the morning duBois told us he'd intended on Squadball, but after last week's fiasco he wanted an easy week, so he set us to practice unarmed drills and spar for the morning. In the afternoon, he started us on our first weapons drills, specifically bastard swords. In case you're wondering, the weapons were wood, with no real edge to speak of, and the moves he showed us all relied on chopping or slicing. Of all people, I did not expect Saffron to complain.

"What's your problem with hand and a half swords, Aetos?"

"Other than the fact that the smallest one in the Yard is, in fact, taller than I am?"

He shrugged. "Apologies, I told the carpenters to have some new larger and smaller ones ready for next week, but as noted I rescheduled things. Just think of it as good training for if you ever lose your weapon in the field."

"Ah, yes. 'Good Training', also known as 'awful conditions'." She sighed, "I would still rather use a spear." When he just cocked his head, she explained, "I would prefer to specialize in a weapon with reach, so I have some hope of injuring my opponent before they turn me to mince."

He nodded his understanding, shrugged, and said, "so grab one of the bigger sticks. Seems like you're not half bad at handling something well outside your weight class anyhow."

Like I said, absolute legend, and definitely deserved his Gold Retirement Watch Set after all the shit we were gonna throw at him over the next who knew how many years.