Chip had begun meal preparations for their three guests. He washed dishes mindlessly as his uncle dried and set the table. They were using their best clay pots, the ones that cost almost a clam’s worth of company scrip. Sam and River, still a sleek black otter, had arrived early, and were explaining their plans to win the contest to the rest of the raft.

“Sela is late, huh?” Stone placed the last plate, poking and prodding until it sat just right, by some unfathomable metric. “You think for how much trouble you guys give him, he’d be on time a little more.”

“Well, you win some, you lose some,” Chip said.

“But the house always makes its money,” Stone finished.

Cutlery had begun to pile up on the drying mat beside Chip, and Stone started sifting through it for what they’d need. Chip finished the last fork and paused, turning to look to the elder otter.

“When you… when you decided to join a raft… was it like… all at once? Or did you negotiate each deal one at a time, because… Sela is like a delicious sweetroll, but Sam is the ingredients that make it delicious…”

Chip trailed off, looking to the crop of vegetables he had to work with. Because the harvest was still going strong, they had options. Turnips, beets and carrots chief among them. The root vegetables would do well with Sam’s seasoning.

Sam appeared at the doorway, winking at Chip.

“River thinks Sela’s about to show,” she said. “She won’t explain why.”

“Quick! Act natural!” River’s voice boomed from the main room, laughter following after. Chip should have known she’d charm his aunts.

Chip craned his neck to peer out the kitchen window, and felt himself go slack with surprise. It was only because he had leaned over Sam to look that he was still upright. Chip nearly swooned, Sela had donehimself up quite well for the evening.

“Excuse me!” Sam whispered. “As much as this is my dream come true, do you think that you could not flatten me for a minute? Or at least long enough for me to get out from under you? There’s enough time for that later.”

“Sorry!” Chip whispered back.

Regaining his composure, he saw that Stone was giving him a bit of side eye. Chip straightened his apron and returned to his duties. With his back to the door, Chip felt more than heard the steps of a dense topical otter. The kind of otter that you apply all over yourself, Chip thought, before snapping himself out if it. Chip hadn’t even negotiated opening terms with Sam or Sela. It was all barreling very fast for him.

“I got the thing… uh… fish… daddy?” came Sela’s voice.

Stone snickered as placed the last piece of cutlery, escorting Sam out of the kitchen with a gentle paw on her shoulder.

“Let them talk,” he said, “then you can have your say.”

Chip turned to see Sela holding a fish-shaped tin about two paws across. His eyes bulged. “Sela, thank you, I …”

“I can get more.”

Taking the tin, Chip examined it.

“More? How much did this one cost you?”

Sela blushed.

“I just flirted with the smith a little.”

“Hold on, you mean to tell me that people just give you things for free because you hit on them?”

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Sela, who hadn’t quite understood that until now, nodded.

“Not just because you’re handsome?”

“Well, that might play a part in it.”

“As long as we’re on the same page. Damn, I wish I had special powers like you or River…” Chip poked his head through the doorway, scanning the room until he spotted Sam. “Sam, do you have any special powers that you want to reveal? Can you call upon Miru’s blessing and just make us win?”

River still held the raft’s attention, but Sam looked back at Sela, fixing her merchants’ bow primly. With a curtsy, she said, “A lady never reveals all of her secrets.”

With a sly backward glance, Sam marched into the kitchen. “If you had a door, I would slam it,” she said, shuffling them away from the door for a semblance of privacy. She took a long minute, watching them both with searching eyes. “I want to just spell this out. Chip, you like Sela, right?”

Chip nodded.

“And Sela, you like Chip, correct?”

Sela beamed.

“I like both of you.”

A brief silence. Chip could barely keep his whiskers from twitching with excitement.

“Do you mean like-like?” Sela asked.

“She means like-like, you beautiful dense otter,” Chip said.

Sam grabbed nervously at the sash above her high-waisted skirts. The thin, silky material gleamed like flowing water. “I think that we could make something out of this,” Sam said. Sela and Chip tipped their heads, looking past her. She continued on unawares. “I think that we make a great team, and that this conspiracy could turn into … she’s standing right behind me, isn’t she.”

Sam turned, and River grabbed her in a full-body hug.

“Well, that answers that,” Sam said.

“Oh, you three were having a moment, weren’t you.” River’s voice was sing-song and smug.

“Well, it depends,” Chip said. “Sela, are you into this?”

Sela hummed, schooling his features into something thoughtful. “Provisionally.”

“Well I’m in if he’s in,” Chip said.

“Oooh! Are you guys finally forming a raft?” River watched in rapt glee.

“Provisionally,” Sam said.

“Provisionally,” Chip and Sela said.

Sam, Chip and Sela all joined hands.

A gruff voice came from the other room.

“If you’re all done playing house, can we start on dinner?”

River smiled as the (provisional) raft giggled.

“We’ll get right on it, dad.” Chip said.

“Good. Because the rest of us still want to grill Sela.”

Sela squared his shoulders and headed into the living room, taking his fate with grace.

“The only thing that is getting grilled tonight is the fish!” Chip said, loud enough for both rooms to hear.

Sam helped Chip prep the fish. Chip explained in detail all of the mise en place his father had picked up from the fox tradition in his time as a mercenary. Otters worked well with foxes, not just because of a shared appreciation for fish, but because they both had a deep love for swordplay and its less prestigious cousin, knives being used to chop stuff up. The traditional mise en place became a meditative trance for fox chefs to go through once everything was set up.

“So there’s a method to your madness after all,” Sam said, watching as the last piece made it to the grill.

“It gets me into a flow state when cooking, which helps a lot. Things run smoother that way.”

“Two minutes of setup doesn’t save much time up front but overall… yeah, I guess that was smooth.”

Chip smiled, cleaning his paws on his apron. He could just hear Stone in the living room, taking point on the raft’s questioning.“Sela, my boy, have you met my two swords? They were my retirement gift from the Company.”

“Ah! They look great!”

“I named them Stabitha and Slashley.”

“Why did you name them—”

And in the kitchen, Chip’s eyes widened with horror as he realized what was about to happen.

“NOOOOO!”

Chip booked it to the living room, just in time to see Stone grin.

“Well you see, Sela.” He mimed slashing a fake sword on a diagonal, and then thrusting the same fake sword forward.

“One is for slashing.”

Chip groaned audibly.

“And one is for stabbing.”

Chip’s mother, Aunt Carol, and his uncle all groaned. River looked delighted. Clapping, she said, “Ah, that’s wonderful! You've all been such wonderful hosts, with such a nice family."

"How is it where you come from, it isn't like this?" Aunt Carol said.

"I don't know if your... boyfriend explained the situation," River said.

"Husband, miss druid... I have two husbands. She really isn't an otter, is she?" Aunt Carol looked to Chip, then to his uncle.

"It's true."

The smell of grilled fish was beginning to waft in from the kitchen.

"We just have to feed you a little more to keep you like this?" said Aunt Carol.

"It's like I'm a slow-burning fire. You just gotta keep me fed."

"Well in that case, Chip?" Aunt Carol looked over expectantly, and Chip peered back into the kitchen. Smoke drifted towards the ventilation shaft. Chip examined the fish.

"Let's eat."

A happy roar came from the assembled rafts as the otters all scurried to the table, destroying the careful setting that Chip had enjoyed up until the last second. The otters queued up to get their servings, and then they all sat around the table.

River had the face of mock horror the entire dinner, as plates, food, and faces all collided in the most chaotic scene she'd encountered outside of training. But the fish, she had to admit, was pretty good.

They met regularly over the next couple of weeks.