Beka Cooper had never been a talkative mot, instead giving the impression that there was so much more to hear if you could only listen hard enough. It drew him in, made him desperate to hear her voice. So he poked and prodded and needled and fiddled until she exploded into a stream of creative threats and insults. He'd kiss her and for a moment he would feel the passion shift, could near taste the potential... and he'd have a new bruise to add to her collection. Each one was a badge of honor, a testament to the moment of her trembling lips it had bought him.

It was a dangerous line of work, needling the Terrier, nearly as dangerous as his actual line of work. Granted, Beka Cooper was marginally less likely to gut him with a hidden blade than some of his rushers. Still, Trickster knows he'd gotten more bruises from the feisty Terrier than he'd gotten from anyone else in his time as the Rogue. His rushers didn't dare; Beka Cooper certainly did. It was worth it to watch her cheeks grow pink and eyes spark. She stood up for herself, of course, called him old (which he wasn't particularly fond of.) She told him more times than he could possibly count that she wasn't his doxie, wasn't his lovey. Most people just ignored his promiscuous use of endearments, but Beka couldn't seem to let them slide.

He loved nothing more than catching her in her natural element, on watch fetching some too slow rusher whom he would have to worry about later.

"Are you making my life difficult again?" He asked her, smirking in satisfaction as she jumped to face him. The rusher she had been chasing took her distraction as a chance to bolt.

"It's not a good idea to sneak up on a Dog, Rosto," she cried, using anger to mask her surprise, "It'll get you hurt or hobbled, or both."

"Not nice to tease, luv."

"Try me, Rosto. Give me a reason," she said, all fire and ice and that lovely flushed shade.

He just laughed though as she straightened and glared directly at him, forgetting for a moment to be shy. "Don't bite lovey... not here anyway. Has anyone ever told you that you've lovely eyes when you look at a cove straight?"

"Perhaps someone has," she smirked. "I'm not your lovey, Rosto, and you've got no business worrying about that."

"You could do worse than having the Rogue worrying you." That got her cheeks flaming again but she caught herself and raised her chin defiantly. "Don't you have anything better to do, Rosto?" She turned to leave and he moved in front of her.

"Then keep the Terrier from tormenting my poor innocent subjects?"

"You have no innocent subjects," Beka retorted over her shoulder. She disappeared back into the streets where she had left her partner and Rosto laughed as he walked the other way. He really shouldn't tease the puppy while she was on watch. It always seemed to make more trouble for him down the line. Not surprisingly he discovered that she finished her watch by breaking a new record for number of rats hobbled in an hour. Of course she did; and that night she ate dinner with Aniki and Kora at the heart of his court (he would swear she was gloating.)

Eventually she left the dove with only a small smirk sent in his direction. Oh yes, she was most certainly gloating. He slipped out the side to meet her before she could make it back to the boarding house.

"I'm in need of some advice," he called out to her.

She paused, back still turned to him, then slowly turned around, a contemplative look on her features. "Go respectable, you'll live longer."

"No doubt, but at the moment I'm more concerned about a professional problem. You see, I think the coves I have working for me are getting sloppy. See my birdies tell me one little puppy took in 14 coves today."

She turned to walk again a stoic expression on her face, "It's probably not those coves you need to worry about." Glancing around briefly she whispered "It probably comes from the leadership. Sloppy leadership, sloppy rats."

He looked warily around them, "You know comments like that could get me killed," he warned her, dropping the teasing facade as he fell into step beside her. "Then who would bring fresh apple pasties to breakfast?"

"Only if someone hears them. Shy-not-stupid, remember. I think your tendency to take a break from your court to walk a Dog back to her boarding house is far more likely to get you killed," she continued, something dangerously like sincerity in her eyes.

"Most likely," he sighed dramatically, holding the door to the boarding house open for her with a bow. "I just can't help being chivalrous-"

He didn't get much further because Beka made a most unladylike snort of laughter and Rosto put on his best hurt expression.

"Get back to your court, Master the Piper, before someone sees your throne getting dusty."


He thought the day she stopped telling him that she was not his lovey would be a day for celebration. It wasn't.

Rosto had not seen much of Beka at all lately, she stopped coming to breakfasts at the Dove. Dinners there became more rare also, and it probably had something to do with that Dog. Holborn. They had met in some sarden brawl and now suddenly months later, Rosto was seeing entirely too much of that cove. He was loud, and cheerful and made Beka laugh and he talked enough for the both of them. Enough that he never heard Beka anymore. So he decided to ambush her after watch again before she could get back to her boarding house. He was waiting outside the kennel when she got off watch, For once not with the old dog (for he was old, older than Rosto...and suddenly she didn't mind so much.)

"There's my lovey," he said, falling into step with her as she headed home, "We've missed you at breakfast. If it weren't for all my rats still getting hobbled, we'd never know you were still around." She smiled half-heartedly and said nothing.

"Luv," he asked, "what's wrong?"

She looked up as if just realizing he was there and smiled brightly. It was strange and didn't seem quite genuine. "Nothing's wrong, Rosto, I have to go," she said, pointedly changing course and heading away from him. He puzzled over her behavior during his walk back to the dove. She hadn't argued with him or threatened him, had seemed reluctant to speak at all. Neither was she being particularly unfriendly. She just seemed to look right through him. He waited for her to come home from watch, she shouldn't be far behind. It was some time before she arrived, in the company of that dog again. He heard the dog's gregarious laughter before they came into view. He was talking excitedly and laughing and Rosto was relieved in spite of himself that everything seemed fine. Still something was wrong. Beka didn't say a single word before they disappeared into the boarding house.

It only made sense to have someone keep an eye on the boarding house while he was in court. Something was going on and it was his responsibility as Rogue to know what it was. (If he kept telling himself that maybe eventually it might be true.) Thanks to that brilliant idea he found himself in possession of one key piece of information later that night.

Holborn wasn't leaving.

His blood boiled. Holborn didn't know Beka, and she hardly knew him...Not that it mattered. Beka Cooper could, and would, do whatever she wanted. And so could he.

Hours later Aniki finally pushed her way into the group of court ladies that surrounded him. They made way for her reluctantly. She gave him a look and he rolled his eyes. "Sorry, ladies. Business beckons. Don't wander too far though," he advised, taking another long pull of his drink.

"Rosto are you drunk? Do you have a death wish?" Aniki mumbled the words out of the corner of her mouth so as to keep the question safe from anyone who could read lips.

"I'm not an idiot, Aniki." His slight slur cleared up in a moment and Aniki glanced down to see that his tankard was still mostly full. "If that's all?" He glanced around rapidly surveying the room. Most of the doxies still hovered near by. No mots with dark blonde hair, that was for sure. (Not that they looked anything like her, those eyes, those sarden eyes.) Red-head it is.

When he finally retired he made no secret of inviting the doxie to come with him. She giggled and Rosto nearly sent her back to the main room immediately. He hated gigglers, he thought irritably. He knew that he was probably letting anger cloud his mind but at the moment the sound of the fire-headed lass' giggle made him want to punch something. But they'd already left the main room and it suddenly seemed like too much energy to make his way back into the thronging crowd. Rosto knew how to play; just the right combination of compliments and distance, of touches and indifference and by the time the mot reached his room she was blushing dark enough to rival her locks. A nice skill to have, he considered coldly, for he was quite certain that nothing he'd done as of yet should really be enough to make this particular mot blush. Maybe there was hot blood wine in her glass?

He kissed her greedily as he unlocked the door and they nearly collapsed into his room when the lock gave way. He turned towards the door to lock it behind him before suddenly deciding that would be unnecessary. He swung her around and pinned her to the door.

She giggled again and he quickly turned her obnoxious giggles into breathless sighs. "I love a cove who knows what he wants," she whispered in his ear in a sultry voice.

It didn't have quite the effect she intended. Rosto froze in place, icy eyes filling his mind once more. Could he not be rid of her for even one night? One moment? He took a step back, ignoring the doxie's confused pout, (as if he didn't know better.) She was playing him just like he was playing her. He sighed.

"You're going to want to be leaving now, I've just recalled another engagement for the evening."

She paused, probably trying to decide whether a breathy whine would change his mind but his eyes were hard and cold, and she wasn't so sure she wanted to be here anymore anyway.

Still she persisted, "but we were having such a lovely time."

Rosto rolled his eyes. He couldn't really blame her, at this time of night most of her potential customers were unconscious on the floor of some bar. He pressed a few coins into her hand, "and I'm sure you'll tell everyone what a 'lovely' time we had. Get out. I'm busy."

He slammed his fist against the door after she left and the solid wood splintered slightly. He needed a better door.

He was not going to think about Beka Cooper, not going to think about the fact that her newest suitor was still there. He wasn't...

He needed a stronger door.


Not long after that first night the happy couple suddenly announced their engagement. (They didn't so much as he did, but she wore the ring, so she must have said yes.)

Beka had stopped visiting the Dove entirely, even for Happy Bag days. She cut herself off from her friends in the court and even from Kora and Ersken. When she did have to converse with people it was like she didn't know how anymore. And it was no wonder. Rosto saw them together sometimes. Holborn laughed and talked jovially. Beka didn't laugh with him anymore. She smiled little half smiles but soon even these faded into memory. Holborn still laughed, but his laugh grew cold. His jokes were now at Beka's expense and he seemed constantly determined to act the part of a senior dog with his puppy. Somehow they had both forgotten that it was Beka's name known throughout the city.

Then Rosto's life started getting easier. Beka wasn't hobbling as many rats. For a short time that placated Holborn... but not for long. Rosto tried to talk to Beka but she wasn't interested in talking. She didn't argue... just ignored him glancing around to see if anyone was looking - as if she was afraid.

Beka left her window opened for the pigeons sometimes, so it didn't take long for Rosto to notice the raised voices that spilled out from her rooms onto the street. Whenever he went by the boarding house he heard some kind of argument drifting from her rooms. One day when he was walking by with Kora a particularly loud argument had broken out over some cove she had spoken to on her watch. He finally snapped and pushed open the door but Kora caught his arm.

"She won't thank you for interrupting," Kora warned.

"I'm not looking for her gratitude," he tried to shrug her off but Kora held fast. "Ersken and I went in yesterday. She kicked us out and told us to mind our own business."

They argued about who she spoke to, rats that she had brought in and perhaps shouldn't have, pickpockets she had let go that should have been brought in. He expected her voice to come back then, but if anything she just got quieter.

The next day he caught up to her during watch, interrupting a chase to grab her wrist and ask her if she was all right.

"Good, Rosto. I'm working."

"You're not good, Beka. Why are you letting him-"

"This is none of your concern, Rosto. I can take care of myself. I don't need your help."

She stalked away and he realized that this was the most he'd heard her voice in months.

So he tried an alternate approach. He waited outside her boarding house and 'congratulated' a very drunk Holborn on his engagement when he stalked out after a particularly heated argument. Rosto clasped the cove's arm a little too tightly and reminded the Dog that there were people who were quite invested in making sure that Beka Cooper was happy.

He began to contemplate very seriously what he would do if he ever caught Holborn hurting Beka physically. Would that shake her out of her reverie? Would she deal with it on her own? Perhaps she wasn't willing to do so, but he was. Rosto pretended to like Holborn, pretended not to realize it was getting worse. It wouldn't do for the whole court to know how much he detested the cove should he disappear one day. She would never forgive him, of course, but no one touched their mot like that within a stones's throw of his court. The fact that it was Beka had nothing to do with it. Almost nothing to do with it...

Holborn's behavior became increasingly erratic as he constantly tried to defeat Beka in the imaginary contest that they were having. He always had to be better, stronger, smarter than Beka. Holborn began to take stupid risks, engage in useless theatrics for the attention they brought him. Rumors of illegal slave auctions were starting up in the city and Holborn started asking questions.

Rosto would have no piece of them anymore than he would touch coles, but he heard the rumors. What kind of a Rogue would he be if he didn't listen to his birdies? Holborn gradually gathered enough information to guess where one of the auctions was happening. Rosto suspected it was a chance he couldn't bear to miss. The glory of taking down a slave ring on his own. Rosto didn't yet know where it was going to take place, but he did not fool himself, he could have found out. Instead he kept his distance only watching to be sure that Beka was home safely that night.

It was nearly daybreak when a pounding rang out from his door. He hadn't slept and he suspected that this news was not going to make his nights more peaceful. There were any number of things that could warrant this much commotion at this time of day, but he didn't even need to open the door to know what it was this time. Holborn had gone after the slavers last night. Gotten himself beaten all to hell most like. He opened the door, wondering if this would quiet his constant need to best Beka or inflame it.

Aniki stood on the other side and it only took one look at her face to know something was wrong. His eyes widened and the possibility that Beka had followed Holborn came suddenly to the forefront of his mind.

"He's dead, tried to take a dozen slavers down at the dock."

"and Beka?"

"I don't think she knows yet. Dogs are crawling all over the scene but no one has been sent to talk to her." Relief washed over him, Beka was unharmed.

"Do we know the coves?"

"No."

"Find them." Killing dogs in his territory was a bold move, he needed to know who was willing to cause him such trouble. He'd another reason for wanting to find the coves, though. This was one mess he did not want credit for. He hadn't expected this so soon. Holborn had been in over his head, time and time again for months now. He'd grown reckless and it was only a matter of time before he got himself hurt... but Rosto always thought he would get out before it came to this. "Better tell me everything."