Bastion's burgeoning crow's feet emphasized his weary eyes as he gazed at his daughter. His deep voice echoed softly in concern.

"I asked you to stop this."

"It is just a tour, Father. No one is getting hurt."

Bastion's non-expression hid a look of long-suffering. As he held a clipboard in one arm, he glanced through attached papers. A comanager was handling the current exports, so he had fifteen spare minutes. The group his daughter brought along this time was different than usual but not overly so. Wisp was in many ways more perceptive than him, so he knew that there was something to gain from giving these people a look around.

What his daughter wanted at any given moment could change on account of excess water droplets in the air or the temperature attached to the back of her palm.

"Hrm..."

The tiredness in his bones reverberated through his vocal cords. Dismissing his daughter for a brief moment, he examined the group.

A man. Average by normal standards but with a different air than any he'd seen. He could smell the magic on him.

A Pixie. The first of her kind to be seen. An elemental who was clearly unhappy with his daughter.

And a teenage Lamia. One he recognized but couldn't place at the moment.

"What was the reason for your visit, traveler? Assuming it wasn't for my daughter."

There was no accusation in the statement, only grudging acceptance.

He dismissed the way his daughter pressed her palms to her face and turned away. Instead, he watched the steady man's gaze. He old hand-me-down shirt he might see on a growing teenager, but his well-weaved ocean blue pants indicated a type of luxury that's rarely seen. Those brown eyes held intelligence blocked by more than his daughter's visage. His neck ticked.

"Baking. Of course. I thought I could gain some insight at seeing things first hand."

"Are you planning to compete?"

Daire vehemently shook his hands in front of him in denial, and Bastion let his hopes subside.

"Not at all. I just needed to know enough to cook for myself and my family."

"Couldn't your mother have taught you such things?"

"Ah..."

Daire became quiet as his eyes examined the floor.

"I'm afraid such a thing isn't possible."

An understanding filled Bastion's dark eyes. A misunderstanding.

"For family's sake, I can gift you something to get you started. A basic recipe and required ingredients. Mimicking our style of business will only hurt you in the long run."

To Bastion's surprise, the man rejected a recipe.

He couldn't think of anyone who would turn down a recipe from him anymore, no matter how basic. Not anymore.

"That's a generous offer, sir. But I believe in trial and error. I can learn from scratch, but what I was hoping for was advice on building a furnace."

Turns out Daire didn't turn down gold for gold's sake. No, he wanted platinum.

"Not one of yours. The ones I've seen here are huge, and they work around large groups operating them, as you've suggested. I was hoping for advice on building a personal oven: the material involved, the height of the chimney, the optimal surface area for baking, etcetera. Whenever I picture an oven, my mind illogically jumps to the forges in the smithies. I can't accurately picture it, which is highly unusual for me."

Daire rolled his eyes.

"Testing different sizes and shapes would take too long. I can do that once I get the basics down if I want, but I was really hoping to skip that step."

At this point, Emmy scooted up next to Daire and tried to whisper. Their back and forth voices became more heated as they developed.

"Not to downplay getting a tour, but if that is what you wanted, we could have just visited the Builders Association."

"How was I supposed to know this place was going to be so huge? And I've never heard of the Builder's Association before. I thought there were only three guilds."

"It is an association, not a guild. You don't know this?"

"No! That's why I hired a guide."

"What were all those questions about when you first hired me? I thought you had basic knowledge. This is basic knowledge!"

"It is soooo not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is-"

Their actions were in synch as they stopped, became aware they were not alone, and awkwardly laughed, trying to act as if nothing happened.

Bastion looked past them and to the silent Pixie. Curious.

"And what brings you here?"

Violet's wings jumped, surprised she'd been addressed. Why was she here? Because of Daire? Because she was following him like a duckling? Because she wanted to see things and see the world? Maybe it was a mixture of all of the above.

"Cookies?"

Her answer came out as a question. Bastion repeated it back.

"Cookies? I don't believe that is something we make."

Violet's head shook from side to side.

"Daire promised to make me cookies."

Bastion blinked.

A few heartbeats later.

"Nestl?"

"Sir?"

A thin middle-aged man hurried over.

"Go see Bill and ask for a blueprint."

"Of what kind, sir? I am sure we have spares in storage."

"Ask for a residential one. Whatever is the most modern."

Nestl ran off with his orders. Bastion turned his head back to the group.

"I'll send him to you when he returns. He should be back by the time my daughter finishes showing you around."

Emmy couldn't hold it together. Bastion held enough influence to request a precious blueprint from the head of the BA and would receive it that same afternoon? She was fangirling so hard right now. Her elbow moved on its own, impacting Daire's ribs.

Get on your knees and thank him!

Emmy's elbow thought.

Daire didn't kowtow. He grinned and held out a hand to shake.

"Thank you. I don't know what you just did, but I assume I owe you."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Bastion met Daire and gave a firm squeeze. The thanks he received just now was genuine. No future promises. No needless honorifics or titles. No slippery smiles or greasy hands necessary.

Bastion let himself feel good for once.

"I'll think of something."

He released his grip and spared a curt word for his daughter.

"Don't."

"Don't what, Father?"

But he didn't answer.

=

*...*

All she had to do was skip. It didn't require any words. The sounds of her heels clicking against the floor was plenty. Sure... It wasn't just the sound. It was the way her hips swayed, and the fabric flowed. How she turned three quarters on each bound and angled her body just so.

By the time they adjourned to the lounge, Wisp was beaming from ear to ear.

"Refreshments? There are fresh samples on the table."

"It's finally here! YES! I've been dying for this."

Emmy practically dived headfirst into the low table where three baskets of freshly baked bread lay. One basket held long french bread with a half sliced loaf of white bread. Another had baked buns. And another had assorted buttered crescents and rolls. Warm and alluring aromas drew them in by the nose. Warm to the touch.

Everyone took their time to enjoy the refreshments. The small slices of cheese. The refreshing cool water.

Emmy felt like she won a lottery and couldn't believe her luck. She was secretly tucking breadsticks into her sleeves and down her shirt while wishing she brought her pack.

Violet ate even more voraciously. Starving, eating with vigor instead of savoring each bite. Each made its way into her gullet. The amount of matter disappearing becoming highly illogical.

Daire was pleasantly surprised at the quality as he traveled down memory lane, remembering fresh rolls on thanksgiving night, family dinners at Olive Garden, failed lunch dates where he still had to foot the bill. The only thing missing was cookies.

His gaze wandered to Violet who ate faster than her mouth would allow. Seeing Emmy's inflated chest made him snicker.

I think I'll keep this memory.

He thought pleasantly. Too absorbed in the food and his friends to notice Wisp's changing expression.

=

*...*

*..n.*

*..la...sy... ilp*

*L...en...*

Wisp was internally frustrated. The effort required for this tour was becoming outrageous. Her senses told her that this deal was worth ten times as much as she'd already given, and that was the only reason she hung on so long.

She liked challenges. Conquering them brought her immense pleasure.

Disregarding the beginning hiccups, the interlopers, and the number of times she had to refocus, everything was going swimmingly. Father even did her a favor and made her quarry indebted to the family. When Nestl came back with the blueprints and handed them to her, she used it as an opportunity to hammer in the last nails.

Would you like me to explain the blueprints?

That would be lovely.

I'll sit here then.

Ah.

You see, here and here, OH, I am so sorry. Let me clean that up.

No. No, it's alright.

I insist. Here. I'll just, Whoops!

...

Acting the clutz worked wonders. Anyone it didn't work on was someone she should stay far away from.

The snooty pixie kept intervening along with the Lamia, but Wisp kept things simple by focusing only on her quarry. Making him feel obligated to be nice and polite was child's play. She already had the contract out and on the table, pre-signed. It was short and to the point with nice loopholes that would allow them to inherit any assets down the road. She would practically own everything they had down to their knickers. It was magically enforced, of course. Like all contracts.

No one would die. It did curse the one who broke it, causing horrible diarrhea and a stench worse than the former that attracted all kinds of nasty insects. A death sentence for any merchant or socialite.

Anyone who broke the contract quickly re-signed a new one to get rid of the foul magic.

These were both her inventions, as her father never condoned this method. He admitted it worked and accepted it after the fact but adamantly wished to go back to how things were. But she wouldn't let that happen. Never again.

Time moves forwards, Father.

"Just sign here, and the blueprint, plus our services, will be open to you."

"Okay, just let me read it over once..."

Few people ever read it. But even those who had were either too distracted or too ill-informed. Trying to tell him not to read it would be a flag, though.

"Of course. It's a standard contract offered to all our regular patrons. Father seems to like you, so I threw in some exclusive benefits just for you."

"I see that. A hundred loaves a month is overly generous."

"I thought you'd like that. And those breadsticks your friend seems to like."

"Sign it, Daire. SIGN IT! Please. I'll owe you for life."

"Hahah. Emmy... Let me read it first."

"I don't see why..."

"Almost done... I'm just looking over the clauses... the affected parties... contingencies... and..."

Wisp and Emmy both waited with bated breath. The time was finally here.

"...and."

Wisp would finally have whatever this man was hiding. A human that traveled with a Pixie like it was normal? Those pants were made better than half her outfits!

"I don't."

*...*

"I don't think."

*...*

"Something is...

*...*

"Okay. Where's the pen?"

Wisp bolted for the quill. She almost went mad excreting so many pheromones at once. Too distracted by her win was she to hear Daire's whisper.

"Violet."

"..."

"Violet, I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

"..."

"Quick, before-"

*Crackle*

*WHAM*

=

The adjacent wall took the impact of Daire's body how one might expect it would take a ragdolling sack of meat. As Daire's vision greyed out and he found himself thinking, 'Oh, so that's what they mean by seeing stars.'

Violet held her fist out, the last remnants of crackling electricity fading as Wisp ran to Daire's smoking body.

"Oh my! How could you do such a thing? Your shoes are gone. Is anything broken?"

He honestly hadn't expected to get sent flying. Must have been Veil's lightning strikes from this morning.

...Or maybe it was just a woman's fury.

Daire coughed, realizing he bit his tongue. As Wisp tried to use a cloth to wipe away the blood on his chin, he snatched it from her and did it himself.

"Thanks for that."

Grunting, he stood. Wobbly at first until he stabilized himself against the wall.

"You've been naughty, Wisp."

The dazzling maiden jumped, her cheeks flushing. Her words stuttered cutely as she rubbed her hands together. The way she tucked in her chin and pressed her arms together made her cleavage bulge.

"I-I am not sure what you mean. I was just grabbing a pen when-, and... I was so shocked and worried, but now..."

Tiny tears shimmered in the corner of her eyes.

"I'm just glad you seem okay."

Dusting himself off, he brushed past Wisp and returned to his former place. Slipping back into his shoes, he stood face to face with Violet, lavender steam wafted off her.

"How are you feeling?"

Violet's unclenched her teeth and lowered her hand. She felt hungry again.

"I'm fine."

Daire nodded appreciatively.

"You did good. Thank you."

"You're thanking me?"

"Yeah. You did as I asked."

Daire felt blood pool in his mouth and turned to the side to spit in the dirty cloth he still held. He offered it back to Wisp. When she didn't move to take it, he tossed it in a small bin near the coffee table.

"I am glad you didn't pass out from overexertion again."

Violet knitted her brow. She'd done as she was asked and had wanted to do it for a while, but she was still caught off guard. Somehow wronged even though she got what she wanted.

"Now, Miss Wisp. I believe we have a contract to finish."

Wisp seemed to have woken from a stupor as she laughed awkwardly.

"Aha. Yes. You were just about to sign. The pen."

"I got it."

Daire plucked the pen from her hand. Ignoring the stares from the ladies, he put pen to paper. After a while, he turned it around and offered it to Wisp.

"Here is my counter-offer."

Wisp looked at it, seeing the absence of a signature. Examining it closer, she saw that a few lines had been edited. He had changed a few key places to switch the parties affected. If she signed this, then she would basically become his property.

"Appalled, aren't you?"

"I don't understand."

"And I finally do. I can think straight now. A contract should be fair in the eyes of both participants; both parties should feel they get the better deal. That's how it is supposed to work. But I've never had someone literally charm me to get the better deal. At least the shifter was honest..."

Violet lashed out.

"Why are you acting all high and mighty. You fell for her! I saw it over and over again. You two were practically attached at the hip."

Daire felt hurt but didn't let it get to him and explained.

"I was charmed, Violet. Literally. Like... Magic."

"You're just trying to get out of it."

"No... I'm not. I-ugh. Hey, listen, Wisp. I know you charmed me. You know you charmed me. Can you explain it to Violet so she doesn't hate me any more?"

Wisp didn't respond as she stared at the contract in her hands.

"Emmy? Can you help me out here? Didn't you say she was part Siren? Aren't Sirens able to charm humans and lead them astray?"

"I thought they just sing well and have fake boobs."

"My boobs... Are. Not. Fake."

Everyone eyed her chest. She covered it with the contract.

"Fine. I charmed you. But you fell for it. And my boobs are not fake. Your scales are fake."

"Are not! Take that back."

"You can feel them for yourself if you want."

"Sure. How 'bout a punch or two? I could use some practice."

Emmy rolled up her sleeves. Breadsticks bounced off the floor.

"Attack me at your own peril. I'll tell my Father."

Emmy simmered. She didn't stop glaring at Wisp as she slowly picked up her precious sample and stuffed them into her shirt.

"Okay. Things are getting out of hand. Let me just end this by saying we won't be signing any contract. Nice try, but you shouldn't have tested me with a contract. Poor move on your part."

"I don't understand. But fine. You don't have to sign this. Let's restart. I can make it worth your while. My Father and I are rich."

"We don't need money."

Daire's crazy statement caused Violet to chime in with her own support.

"We do. But I don't like you. Our business uses my name. We are co-owners, so you'd need both of our signatures anyway."

Daire snapped his fingers.

"That's true. Did you even think of that Miss Wisp? Or did you forget to ask the name of our business? I never offered the name. Did you, Violet?"

"Nope. Neither did Emmy."

"Oho, you hear that? You're fresh out of luck. I don't have all day to continue playing your game. We'll take our leave now."

"We'll take our leave now."

"Adieu"

Violet became confused.

"A door?"

Daire's swag persona faded. He corrected Violet.

"Adieu."

"A door."

"Adieu."

"Adore?"

"No. Adieu."

"Idiom?"

"Gah. No. Adieu. It is a formal goodbye meant to be sarcastic and scathing in this particular circumstance; now I must get the door."

"Adieu?"

"The door, Violet."

Wisp was gobsmacked.

Daire strutted over to the door and held it open for Emmy. Emmy raised her height as she exited. She'd stolen the baskets.

Daire followed her without another glance back.

Violet was the last out, stopping in the doorway to throw a small spark. It landed on the tabled contract, causing it to light up in purple flames; the compromised magic oozed a foul odor.

"Ack!"

Snickering, Violet left Wisp to put out the fire.