The weather was, to sum it up one word, shit. The wind crashed into the house, shaking the windows, while the rain seemed to take a solid delight in trying to break the glass of aforementioned windows. The only illumination in the gray morning sky was the occasional bolt of lighting, cracking across the heavens.

Sarah sat in the kitchen, where she was chewing a dry piece of toast. She had considered making a proper breakfast, but came to the conclusion she did not want the risk that came with messing up a demon's kitchen.

She tapped her phone a few times, scrolling through the suggested articles and, as usual, finding little that interested her.

"Might as well go then," she muttered, dropped the remains of her toast on the table. The normal urge to clean up struck, then she decided solidly against it. It was her act of rebellion against her captor for the day.

"More will follow," she said to herself, then got up to collect her belongings and head out.

"You should clean that up," Sam said, entering the kitchen, "Diana hates a mess."

"Sucks to be her," Sarah retorted, bumping her shoulder into Sam's on purpose as she left the kitchen, "There's stuff I hate too."

Sam shrugged, wiped the crumbs off the table and started on his own breakfast.

Sarah had collected her belongings and opened the front door, immediately regretting her decision to go outside. She was slapped in the face with a fresh gale and a bolt of lightning seemed to be just there to underscore how poorly timed her exit was. She stubbornly pulled her scarf tighter, then ran to her car in the pouring rain.

After fumbling the key four or five times, she finally got inside and checked herself in the rear view mirror. She shook her head at how disheveled she looked from thirty meters running to the car, then put her key in the ignition and... nothing. Merely the protesting sputter of an engine that refused to cooperate.

She tried a few more times, but in the only smashed her hands the steering wheel in frustration. Annoyed, she got out and slogged back through the rain, slamming it behind her a moment later.

"Don't throw the doors!" Diana called from the kitchen.

Sarah didn't respond.

"Oh, Sarah.." Diana replied, stepping out of the kitchen. She was stirring something in a sauce pan, which she mechanically kept doing as the hallway fell in a tense silence.

"Car not running?" the redhead finally dared ask.

"If it was, I wouldn't be here, would I?" Sarah cattily threw back.

"I'll call you a taxi, if you want?"

"I'll check the engine when the storm's over."

"I can call a tow if you want?" Diana offered, lowering the pan she was stirring.

"Not important," Sarah muttered

"Then..." Diana said, looking around and lamely held the pan out to Sarah, "Would you like some breakfast?"

"I'm going back to bed."

"Whatever you want," Diana said, seemingly slightly hurt at the piled on rejections, "I'll keep something out for you. Sleep well."

"Whatever."

It was well past noon when Sarah woke up again. The weather hadn't let up and, because of that, she had decided to stay in bed. She grabbed the remote from her night stand and turned on the television, hoping to find something worth watching. As she expected, there was little on even at this time and in the end she ended up watching some old kid's show about a trio of children turning into bug-themed superheroes.

"This is my life now, huh?" she sighed to herself, then involuntarily looked down when she heard the doorbell. She hadn't heard any cars approach, nor could she imagine anyone braving the weather for whatever reason. She suddenly remembered her hostess's heritage.

"Booty call," she said out loud to herself.

She didn't pursue the thought further, distracted by somebody coming up the stairs two steps at a time. A moment later there was a knock on the door.

"Diana?"

"No."

It was a woman that spoke. A vaguely familiar voice.

"Then who?"

"Can I just come in? I don't like talking to wood."

"Ugh. Fine."

The door opened and Sarah was surprised to find the florist from a few days earlier enter. She was even more surprised that the florist was dressed in little more than the silk shirt and shorts that consisted her pajamas.

"Hi," the brown skinned girl said, "I'm Nia. Oh, it's you!"

"Sarah," was the lame introduction she offered in return, "I'm guessing you were Diana's date?"

"Something like that," Nia replied, putting a lollipop in her mouth, "So, you're her new little project?"

"And you're one of her previous victims."

"Ohh," Nia grinned, "Kitty's got claws, but no. I wouldn't call myself a victim."

She took a moment to suck on her lollipop as she thought about the correct word, then smiled,

"I'd say beneficiary. Sounds a lot better."

"Stockholm syndrome then?"

"Look, I don't know where she got you, but there's worse people to be saddled with. Sure got me out of my slump."

"My aunt sold me off to pay a gambling debt," Sarah muttered, looking down at her blankets.

Nia laughed, which dropped the lollipop from her mouth. She barely caught it in mid air.

"That's a new one," she said, still chuckling, then plopping the lollipop back in her mouth.

"So, what do you want?" Sarah demanded.

"Well, Diana sent me up..."

"Then I'm not interested in what you have to say."

"Come on! She just asked if... Well, this is really awkward."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Look, I'm sure she thinks you're really cute, but I'm not into threesomes."

"You wish," Nia scoffed, "No, it's awkward, because it's really nerdy. One of our regular players is missing today, so now we don't have a healer. Could you fill in?"

"...Like video games?" Sarah said. There was some indignance in her words at the thought that that was how Diana would win her over.

"Like rolling a bunch of dice and pretending you're fighting goblins..."

"Oh..."

"Offer's open for the next thirty minutes. If you ask me, Sarah was it? If you ask me, Sarah, playing a game on a rainy day sure beats feeling for yourself and watching..."

The woman glanced at the television, which had gone to the next show, before finishing her sentence.

"Watching Barbie movies."

"Thirty minutes?" Sarah repeated, turning off the tv without picking up the remote.

"Mhm."

"Where did Diana pick you up?" Sarah demanded to know.

"Normally I'd say that's none of your business, but, since we're sort of in the same boat."

Sarah remained quiet.

"Her friend brought me here. Glad she did, cause I was about ready to suck dick for money."

Sarah sucked her lips in, unsure how to respond to that.

"Maybe I'll tell you what happened some other time, but I'll tell you up front. Diana's the best thing that ever happened to me and, if you play your cards right, she can be for you too. Now, if you'd excuse me..."

Nia closed the door behind and Sarah listened to the sound of feet on the stairs. She picked up the remote, looked at the black screen of the tv, sighed and started to get dressed.

"Might as well," she grumbled.

She found the others in the lounge, converged around the small table, on which the platters of sweets had been replaced with several bowls of chips and assorted snacks, as well as a large plastic matt that took up half the available space. Nia was speaking to a man, using a bunch of terms that sounded like English to Sarah, but didn't mean much to her. Another man was sitting in a chair next to the table, placing tiny plastic figures on the mat.

"Uh... hi?" Sarah said, hoping to draw some attention, "I'm Sarah and I'm supposed to be your healer today."

The man Nia had been talking to looked up from a book and smiled. If Sarah had to describe him in a few words, she would have gone with 'amiable college professor'. The man, who was probably well into his fifties, was had bald, had a magnificent mustache and wore a pair of round glasses on his equally round face. There was a cheerful sparkle behind them, that matched well with the warm smile he seemed to have ready for everyone.

"Sarah, you say?" he echoed her name, standing up and knocking the tweed blazer he had hung over the back of his chair down to the floor. He held out a hand for Sarah, who almost stumbled over the man with the figures to get to him.

"Sorry," she mumbled. The man with the figures didn't respond.

"Doctor Thomas Thomas," he introduced himself and gave her a firm handshake.

"Sarah Beck... Wait, Thomas Thomas?"

"My father thought it was amusing. Most people jus thought I was a strange stutterer, which is why people call me doc now. I'll be your dungeon master today. Nice to have you at the table, Miss Beck."

"Becker. And Sarah's fine... Doc."

"You've met Nia, I understand," he said, "So as soon as Mister Moore could remember his manners, we can have introductions out of the way."

The man with the figures kept positioning them, occasionally checking a notebook. He grunted to himself in annoyance, then tapped one with his finger so lightly that you'd think he hadn't intended to move it at all.

"Mister Moore... Mister Moore... Dennis!"

"Huh?"

Dennis was a sharp eyed man in his early thirties, whose clothes fit him so badly that they seemed to suggest that 'getting dressed' was an optional step for him every morning. His hair, which was in need of a wash, clung to his head and, if Sarah had to go by the bags under his eyes, he hadn't slept for the past three nights.

He stood up, took Sarah's hand and brought it to his lips. Sarah pulled it away before it connected.

"Pleased, I'm sure," then was relieved when Doc took out some papers and drew her attention to him, starting a long winded explanation of the rules. Sarah patiently listened, nodding here and there to show she was, though most of what the man said made no sense to her.

"You'll pick it up soon enough," he assured her, "It makes more sense when you're doing it."

"That's true for a lot of things," Diana said when she entered. She was carrying a tray with two pitchers on one hand, in the other she was somehow carrying five tankards.

"Bit early to be drinking, isn't it?" Sarah asked, deciding to be as pleasant as she could manage to Diana.

"It's grape juice and root beer," Diana giggled, "But I like to go all out."

Nia let out a soft sound of appreciation at Diana's words, then dropped down in one of the empty chairs, "Right you are, Di, can we get started?"

Diana who, to Sarah's surprise, had put on an extremely conservative skirt and blouse combo, showing not the faintest hint of skin, sat down on the fainting couch.

"Wow where were we?" Doctor Thomas asked, though appeared to be mostly talking to himself as took his place at the head of the table, "Oh right. You were on your way, on a diplomatic mission to benefit the goblin revolution, when you were jumped by the trolls..."

Dennis took out a notepad, read out a handful of bizarre sounding names and numbers back to the doctor. Thomas nodded.

"In that case, Dennis. Lupin was next to move."

"Who's Lupin?"

"Dennis's player character. You will be playing Gutrot."

"...Sounds like a charmer."

"If it's my turn," Dennis said, loudly to make sure everyone was listening to him, "I will..."

Dennis's watch beeped, informing the gathered players that it was eight pm. Sarah was somewhat disappointed, as she was about to use her holy powers to smite a demon, which was the culmination of some bad guy's plan to overthrow the goblin rebellion.

"I'm afraid that this is where we wil finish up today then," Doc said, "Did you get all that, Mister Moore?"

"Sure did," Dennis, who had only stopped writing to take his own turns, replied, finished whatever he was jotting down and leaned back in his chair, starting to read back his notes.

Diana stood up and stretched out, shaking her head at herself.

"I got way too involved in that," she said, "And poor little Caliban died for me."

She picked up the miniature that had been 'Caliban' and gave it a sentimental look, apparently not blaming Sarah for not going out of her way to heal her player character.

"But that means I get to make a new character," she said brightly, then locked her eyes on Sarah, "You too?"

Sarah looked down at the table. She had to admit it had been fun, then shrugged, "If you guys will have me."

"It is always a pleasure to have an extra player, Miss Becker. If nobody objects anyway. Miss Carlson might still hold some ill will, as you almost let her Ruby die."

"She can redeem herself next time," Nia laughed, "Dennis, you're giving me a ride home, right?"

"Mhm" Dennis replied, carefully eyeballing where each character stood, before finally standing up, "Pizza?"

"Sure," Diana said, "If nobody's in a hurry to go home."

"I have a ride and Iris is with... her father."

There was a conspiratorial look between Diana and Nia.

"So I have time," the black woman finished.

"My wife has her ever so charming friends over for her book club, so I'd rather be here, than listen to an in depth analysis of the latest bestseller."

"Unless you'd rather go mope?" Nia teased Sarah.

"I'm already here and I still have to have dinner," Sarah said, then looked at Diana, "No mushrooms."