The atmosphere in the Screaming Onion Tavern was starting to pick up as customers made their way inside for the upcoming evening meal. Scraggles was busy taking orders, but that still left one other person with whom he could discuss his needs.

Upon entering the kitchen, however, he noted something surprising. Instead of Jackie at the vegetable station, there was a young man inside who furiously worked the grill.

Blackthorne squinted at the strange new arrival then stepped back into the dining area. "Am I missing something?"

"I don't know, have you lost something?" asked a familiar voice.

He turned toward Jackie, a slight smirk on his lips, but froze in his tracks. "You..."

"Me?" she asked curiously.

"You're not wearing any clothes..." said Blackthorne, his eyes bulged slightly. Hateful whispers immediately assaulted his mind as he witnessed Jackie in all of her curvaceous glory.

"'I'm off work now. Why would I wear my uniform?" she asked him in a light and humorous tone.

"Since when do you walk around like this on your off hours?" asked Blackthorne, a dark suspicion creeping up within the depths of his heart. Had he continually missed something this extraordinary?

"I rarely come downstairs during my time off, but I heard you leave your room..." she said slowly, "We do need to discuss my proper compensation, after all."

"Push 'er down! Make 'er squeal like a pig, Cletus!" exclaimed a voice inside his head. Various squealing pig noises followed suit alongside the occasional shout of, "Suuuue-eey!"

He forced away the distraction as best he could and slowly asked, "Just what kind of compensation requires a naked conversation?"

An amused smile rose up on her perfect lips. "Come to my room, little man. We shall discuss my needs."

The voices in his head rose to a fever-pitch as they shrieked and railed at him. How dare he leer at her in such a manner! He was trash, pure trash.

"Look... I told you that I'm not—" began Blackthorne.

Jackie reached out and clasped his wrist. She clamped down on his arm with a vice-like grip. "Come. Come. You will come with me..."

"Hey, wait!" exclaimed Blackthorne, his face becoming flush in the process. This wasn't how this sort of thing was supposed to happen! He had little experience in the matter, and all those experiences were best forgotten. Still, he was the man, dammit!

Jackie dragged him through the dining area. The moment they were noticed, various patrons started to hoot and laugh at the scene.

One man cried out, "Looks like she caught another one!"

A woman called out, "It's a big one this time, huh?"

A girl from the far-side exclaimed, "Is he blushing? That's so cute!"

Jackie's grip on Blackthorne's arm tightened even as she gritted her teeth. They climbed the stairs and she led him to her room.

Blackthorne looked around, confused by what he saw. There was nothing in the room but the same furniture that his room possessed. Surely, even as a slave she had a few personal effects. Scraggles did not seem like the sort of man to deprive someone, even if he was the sort of man who had his overly attractive slave girl chop vegetables while she wore nothing but an apron.

After he realized the thoughts that came to mind, he snorted. On second thought, the room did make a bit more sense.

Jackie shut and locked her door then dragged him over to her bed. "Now, shall we get down to business?"

"What business would that be?" asked Blackthorne in a calm, measured, tone. Despite the coolness of his words, his heart beat increased rapidly. This was not a good idea.

She offered him a wry smile then sat down on her bed. She made a big production out of sliding onto her side then lightly ran her fingers along the sheets. "What do you think it is?"

He coughed once then forced himself to look away from the absurdly erotic scene. The voices inside his head were livid. How dare he consider her words so seriously? He was such a garbage fire of a person.

Jackie placed a hand to her mouth, closed her eyes, and began to laugh. "Typical..."

Blackthorne snorted, but did not look at her. "You would not have brought me here for that... You've never been so aggressive about it before."

She sighed languidly then sat up and crossed one leg over the other like a lady. Her hands placed lightly atop one knee, she said, "True... It's not like I actually enjoy bringing people back to this room, at least not usually."

"Why then?" he asked her in a non-committal manner.

She closed her eyes briefly and took a slow, deep, breath. She then opened them part way and said, "You owe me, and I intend to make you take responsibility."

"I see..." he said, "How do you think I should do that?"

She looked up at his face, her eyes opened fully. "I'm a woman who has needs, needs you are honor bound to fulfill."

"Fill her needs with popcorn shrimp... Bitches love tiny little shrimp," snarked a voice in his head.

His left eye twitched slightly as the voices in his head enjoyed their own little hateful festival of mockery. Ever since he silenced them a few days prior, they had come back with a vengeance. Worse, they were becoming more creative now.

"What exactly are those needs?" he asked her in a passionless voice. The voices inside his mind demanded far too much of his attention at the moment.

She noticed his strangely cold demeanor, but said nothing of it. Instead, she cut to the heart of the matter. "I will never achieve my goal if I remain here. My current master has long held to a standard that if I earned enough money to pay back my—" She stopped then spat out the word, "husband's" before she continued, "debt, I would be able to leave this tavern and travel with a new master of my choice."

"New master? He can't set you free?" asked Blackthorne. Manumission seemed like a better deal for her than trading masters.

"No. He won't, and I don't want that," she said, "The sale contract between my husband and my current master is important for my continued freedom."

"Your freedom hinges on you being a slave?" asked Blackthorne incredulously.

Jackie noted the disbelieving look on his face. "It was originally meant to be a collateral loan until he paid my master the money he owed for damages to the tavern."

She took a deep breath then frowned in annoyance. "There was a time period wherein he needed to repay the debt, or I could be sold off to pay what was owed. That allowed period passed a while back, so I have the option of leaving here if I can find someone who is willing to buy out my contract with the stipulation that they do not set me free until I wish it."

"So you're husband never came back?" asked Blackthorne. That seemed a bit far-fetched. Who would just leave someone like Jackie behind?

"That bastard isn't worried about losing me to someone else," she said with a crinkling of the skin near her eyes. "I'm still duty bound to follow his wishes due to the forced marriage. All he needs to do is kill or coerce the current owner of my contract and I'll belong to him."

"How is that a protection of your freedom?" he asked her, still slightly confused.

She stared at Blackthorne for a moment then continued, "If he came back one day and demanded that I leave with him, only the slave sigil on my lower back would prevent me from leaving against my will. As distasteful as it is, slavery is the only thing that has kept me from being his play toy."

"I see... but from what you are saying, you want me to take your contract?" he asked her slowly.

"Correct. You must take responsibility for what you have done to me," said Jackie.

"What I did to you?" he asked her, confused.

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh yes..."

He leaned away from her a little as the voices in his head began clamoring for attention. "You're terrible. Look what you did to this fine upstanding whore!"

A snarky voice cried out, "She's such a hard worker, there's probably no tread left on the tires. Why make her life worse, you asshole?"

"You should be ashamed! Ashamed!" crowed another voice. "The poor little slutty sack of STDs has it rough because of you!"

Blackthorne grimaced and did his best to push the savage voices back to their hidden holes inside his mind. "What is it that you think I did?"

She snorted at him then crossed her arms over her chest. "If you don't know, that just makes it worse..."

He frowned at her. As far as he was concerned she was simply making things up at this point. "Whatever... You can say that, but why out of all people did you want me to take responsibility? I'm sure many have done far worse."

She hopped to her feet with a dangerously intriguing bounce then pressed forward into his personal space. "Only my husband has hurt me worse than you, and you will take responsibility."

The voices railed inside his mind, but for once he easily ignored them. Anger flashed in his eyes and he lightly butted his forehead against hers while he stared into her eyes. "What does that even mean," he said in a cold voice that belied his expression.

Jackie pressed her forehead against his a pushed him back slightly. "I have my reasons!"

"Share them," he said in a low growl.

They shoved each other back and forth slightly with their foreheads for a moment before she released a soft growl of her own. "Fine... you're a dreamer..."

Blackthorne pulled back slightly and disengaged his forehead. "What does being a dreamer have to do with anything?"

She momentarily seemed to be at a loss for words, but then acquired a calculating expression. "Well, as a dreamer you are far more likely to travel around. You would need something of a guide, a weapon's tutor... and might allow for other things..."

His eyes narrowed. He could be somewhat oblivious at times, but it was obvious that there was more to her reason for picking him than his status. However, he was not averse to spending more time with her and she was quite helpful with his training already. "Is that really your reason?"

"Of course," she said, a determined set to her eyes.

Blackthorne regarded her for a moment then asked, "Surely the debt is large if he did not return to pay it off."

"You would need to pay twenty-three hundred jerin," she said, a slight smile slipping across her lips.

Taken aback by what she said, he leaned further away and stared at her. "That's... how could he not have afforded that?"

She offered him a cheeky smile. "The debt was considerably higher. The tavern mostly burned to the ground, after all."

He looked into her eyes for a moment and then it suddenly dawned on him. "All the extra work you've done has been to help the one you choose to pay off your husband's debt..."

"I thought that much was obvious..." she said, her smile growing slightly.

"In hindsight it was, but I was a little confused for a while during this conversation," he said.

"It will take every jerin I have garnered since my arrival in this place. I'll have to rely on you for everything as the one whom needs to take responsibility for what he has done to me..." she said in a lighter tone than her eyes bespoke.

"I have done many things, even gone without real clothing or much of anything that might improve my living condition, all for this day..." she said, her voice growing tight.

A slight shimmer came to her eyes as they narrowed and she stared at him in a penetrating manner. "Now, fulfill your obligation to me... Take responsibility for what you have done..."

The longer she stared at him from that moment on, the softer and more delicate her stare became. A slight tremor crossed her face and her lips trembled for the briefest of moments. Had he not been staring directly at her, he would have missed it.

Blackthorne took in the sight before him, but soon saw something else in Jackie's face. His breathing intensified and he began to inhale and exhale at a slightly rapid pace. His vision became clouded and he no longer saw her. He saw Saelil looking up at him from the chains that bound her in the dark. He saw the batter corpse of his little sister lying curled up as blood trickled from her nose and mouth.

By the time the specters of past memory faded, Jackie had lowered her eyes a little. Her lips trembled even more, and her fingers had curled into fists.

The voices screamed inside his mind as he forced his hands upward. He struggled against them with everything he had as he slipped his arms around her waist then pulled her into a tight embrace. His breathing intensified further even as he closed his eyes tight. Tears began to slide down his cheeks as he went to war with the voices in his head. He was scum, filth. How dare he embrace a woman after all that he had done?

Jackie's nostrils flared slightly and her cheeks became flush until they burned and took on a scarlet hue. Many times in the past she had been embraced by a man she barely knew. Yet, never had a reaction such as this been caused within her. He had done this to her, somehow. He caused this terrible thing to happen, the worst thing imaginable...

Blackthorne's cheek pressed against hers and slightly stroked her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly. "I'm sorry..."

She was not certain to whom he spoke, but she had seen enough of him to know that those words were not meant for her. Jackie closed her eyes and bit her lip a little. This bastard and those damned eyes of his... He had made her care, just a little, about something as pathetic as a human man.

No human was worthy of her concern, even her current master was barely tolerable. Now, this vile thing would have to take responsibility for that abominable feeling of concern that he caused to well up inside of her. She would make sure he paid dearly for it.

Jackie's hands slowly reached up then ever so slowly, they inched around his waist. She leaned into his embrace ever so slightly and relaxed her body a little.

She convinced herself in that moment that it was necessary to seal the deal. If anything, she knew how to please a man. Let the pathetic creature hold her close and whisper. It would make him think himself in control. In that moment, no matter who might ask, she would never have admitted that a slight trickle of tears began to slide down her cheeks as well. It was impossible for her to admit that for the briefest of moments she found a true hint of peace in this hateful world, and did so in the gently embracing arms of a broken man.