I am pretty sure that whoever discovered hot springs must have
been a woman.  Of course, that probably applies to most of the more
important things in life.  I mean, think about it:  who usually cooks for
a family?  The mother, natch.  So any kind of *good* food was probably
developed by women.  Magic, same thing.  Oh, I don't doubt that you have a
few major male spellcasters, but I've figured out that most of the really
big boys trusted their cute female apprentices to do the hard work.  I'm
just one of the first to not put up with that crap.

	Boy aren't I thinking lofty thoughts?

	Ah, well, close encounters with Divinity will probably do that to
you.

	"Yoo hoo!  Lina-saaan!"

	Amelia.  Possible responses:  Hide, Blow Her Off, Run.

	But I'm enjoying this bath *far* too much.  Ah well.

	I turn up to look at her.  "Hello, Amelia-chan," I say easily,
smiling.  "How's it going?"

	"Okay.  How's the water?"

	I splash weakly.  "Just great!"  I won't, I won't, I won't ...
arghh.  "Care to join me?"  Blasted social reflexes.

	She smiles cutely (yeogh), and lets the towel around her drop
before she hops in.  I try not to grit my teeth as I catch a glimpse of
her figure -- it's just not *fair*.  I mean, she's fourteen years old, why
the hell does she more developed than *I* am at sixteen?

	Reminds me of ...

	Don't think about it.

	She lets out a big sigh.  "Ah, wonderful ..."

	We sit and soak in silence.  Amelia's not that bad, sometimes.
She's got a good heart, and --

	"Wasn't Martina-san and Zangulus-san's wedding nice?" she asks
dreamily.

	-- is unfortunately *way* too predictable, and it's time to look
for an escape before --

	"So when *are* you and Gourry-san getting married?"

	Ack.

	"Oh, *please*," I say, infusing my voice with all the scorn I can
manage -- and that's a whole wopping lot.  "What makes you think I even
*want* to marry that big dumb --"  I stop myself, and look over my
shoulder.  Nope, no Gourry peeping.  Okay, I can't *really* see Gourry
peeping, but -- dammit, I'm leaving Amelia an opening.

	"Because you're in love with Gourry-san, Lina-san," Amelia says,
smiling at me.

	I gape at her.  "What the hells are you --"

	"Lina-san ..." she tsks, shaking her head sadly yet with a smile.
"I do white magic.  I'm not as good as Sylpheel-san is, but I *do* know
what I'm doing.  And white magic draws on the bright emotions -- and I can
*feel* them coming off of you when you when you're with him."  She's
smiling at me, this weird little gentle yet all-knowing and *smug* smile.

	I'm *blushing* like a child, and I *can't* blame it on the water,
damn her bones.  "That's just *friendship*, Amelia, seriously.  I mean, I-I
like him, he's nice, but --"

	"Lina-san, why don't you want to admit it?"  Now she seems
irritated.

	"Because he's my partner, and you're not supposed to fall in love
with your partner!" I snap.  Don't *ask*, I plead with her silently.

	"Why not?  If you love each other, then --"

	"Because then people can find out, and they can use it against
you, or ..."  Shit, *WHY*?   "... or you can fall out of love, and then
you're out a partner as well as a lover."  I close my eyes.

	I hear her make a little gasp.  "Lina-san ..."

	I am *not* crying.  Or if I am, it's because of the salts in this
stupid flaming hot spring.  She could probably have told me which ones.

	"Who ... who was he, Lina-san?" Amelia asks, softly.

	Oh, the irony, oh oh the irony.

				*   *   *

	I can still remember when I began to realize that my relationship
with Naga was more complicated than friend/partner/annoyance.

	We'd -- or rather, *I'd* -- just finished off the little affair of
Mipross Island, and discovered that my reward for saving the lives of
dozens of elves was to be given the location of a spring that would make
me turn into ... well, anyway, I was in a bad mood.

	Naga had followed me to the spring, and overheard me talking to
the farmer who let me know that it would *really* do, and now she wanted
to know what I'd thought was going to happen.

	I didn't want to deal with this, so I ran away.  Perfectly normal,
healthy reaction.  It's how I dealt with ... I don't want to think about
that.  I raced away from her, along the seashore.

	The only problem was that Naga was having *far* too much fun
teasing me to just let me off like that.  So she ran after me, laughing
that *damned* annoying laugh of hers as she did.

	We ran for a while ... but I'd had a hard day.  I stumbled and
fell.  I rolled over onto my back to try and get up, but the trembling in
my legs told me that it wouldn't be a good idea.

	I saw Naga catching up to me, grinning like a maniac ... and then
she tripped on this clump of sand that I must have kicked up, and fell
down.

	On me.

	We were at eye level.  Her lips were only a few inches from mine,
and though her ... bosom was pushing into my chest, it didn't feel
uncomfortable.

	It felt ... nice.

	There was something funny about her eyes -- the arrogance and sly
cunning that I usually saw there was strangely absent.  She opened her
mouth to say something, but whatever it was stalled somewhere between her
brain and her mouth.  And then I realized something about lying like this
... I could feel her heart beat.

	It was getting faster.

	So was mine.

	And then the tide came in, and we almost drowned.  Naga was pushed
off of me by the sudden wave, and I was drenched.  Whatever happened was
put aside as I decided to go back to the inn and get changed into some dry
clothes before I caught a cold.

	I was running away again, but this time she didn't chase me.  She
didn't come back to the inn until much later that night.  And she didn't
say anything to me when she did arrive.

	We got on the boat back to the mainland, squabbling just like
always, and everything was back to normal, right?

	Yeah, right.  And we started getting separate rooms when we
travelled together because we were making vastly more money than we had
been before, and could afford them.  And I have this rare family heirloom
-- why no, it's not cursed at all -- that I want to sell you.

	We did all kinds of things.  Searched for elven treasure.  Served
as the models for golems.  Fun fun fun.  She didn't quit picking on me,
and I didn't quit beating the crap out of her when she did.  And we kept
telling ourselves that nothing was different.

	Only sometimes I'd catch her looking at me, when she thought I
couldn't see her.  And her eyes were contemplative, instead of scornful.

	And sometimes I caught myself looking at her.

	Y'know ... if you looked beyond the ridiculously oversized chest,
and ignored the evil laughter ... she was actually kind of good looking.
And she had a nice smile, sometimes.  When she thought no one was looking.

	I'd never even considered falling in love.  The plan that I'd come
up with, when I'd ... left home, was to make a vast sum of money
adventuring, find an agreeable prince, and have a trophy husband with a
kingdom where I could have some fun, and keep right on adventuring.

	I don't think I was upset by the idea that I *could* be in love
with another woman; Zephelia was a lot more liberal than some of the
nations, when it came to that.  Of course, the fact that what we consider
to be polite disagreement is what most people consider to be war between
nations might have had something to do with that.  Suggest that someone
shouldn't be kissing someone else, and you're apt to get blown up for your
troubles.

	But ... when I'd left Zephelia, I'd just started into puberty.
I'd never looked at *anyone* the way I was looking at Naga.

	One night, we stumbled into some town in the middle of nowhere,
having just looted a rather large bandit camp.  We'd picked up enough
money to let us live *real* well for a while ...

	There was just one problem.  Only one room in the only inn in
town.  Only one *single* room in the only inn in town.  

	"Okay, we'll play janken for the bed."

	Only one *very* *small*, single room in the only inn in town.

	Close quarters, in other words.  And there was no time to go
shopping for a curtain so we can change behind it, and anyway, that would
have meant admitting that there was a problem.  And I hadn't bathed in two
days, so sleeping in my travelling clothes was not an option.

	It's no big deal, I thought.  I turned to make some crack at Naga,
and I realized that she was looking at me.

	I'd caught her looking at me, and she didn't even notice that I'd
caught her.  She was looking at me ... that much.

	And then quite suddenly I realized that she had no clothes on, and
then neither did I, and then we were kissing, and then we were on the bed,
and then we did it.

	And then we did it again, and again, and again, and again, and ...

	Afterwards, I couldn't move.  I'd never felt so good in my life.
It was even better than when my big sister had stopped killing me.

	Naga was just as far gone as I was, but I think she thought I was
further.  She gently pulled me up from where my head was resting on her
stomach, and gently kissed me on the forehead.

	"I love you, Lina-chan," she whispered. 

	No one had ever told me that they loved me before.

	I still haven't told anyone I love them.

				*   *   *

	"So what happened?" Amelia asks quietly.

	"A couple days after we ... were together for the first time ..."
She blushes, but obviously understands what I'm saying.  I swallow the lie
mixed with the truth that follows.  "... I overheard *him* joking with
some people in the inn where we were staying about the ... the flat-
chested little dummy *he* had to hang around with."  All at once, I can
hear that mad, insincere laugh of hers again, and I clench my teeth in
remembered anger and despair.  "I kind of lost my temper," I choke out.

	"Lina-san ... you didn't."  Amelia sounds almost despairing
herself.

	"It was just a little town," I try to explain.  "I'm sure that the
people who were living there were happy to move on."  As a rationale, even
I have to admit that it has its problems.

	Amelia lets out a put-upon sigh, and it's so hard to resist
blasting her.  (*I'm* the put-upon one, here.)  "Well, *anyway*, Lina-san,
Gourry-san would never do anything like that --"

	"Right, I forgot, Gourry *never* puts me down in public," I sneer.

	"Not like *that*!  Not to other people!" she objects.  "And that's
only because he doesn't understand how *you* feel."

	I sigh.  "Well, that's *three* of us ..."

	She smiles that *damn* irritating smile of hers again, and kisses
me on the cheek.  "It'll be okay, Lina-san.  You'll find a way to let him
know.  I believe in you."  She holds up a hand to her face, and lets out a
little shriek.  "Wrinkles!"

	Amelia is out of the tub, with the towel wrapped around her,
before I could say "fireball".  (And I can get that down in less than a
second ...)  "See you later," she says as she heads out of the baths.

	I watch her go.  It's a good thing that she's not a little bit
older, or I'd be in even more confusion than I was already.

	Did you love me, Naga?

	Maybe what we had scared you, as much as what I might be growing
with Gourry scares me.  (And oh L-sama does what I have with Gourry scare
me.)  Maybe the only way you could deal with it was to joke about me to
those hags in the tavern.

	Maybe when you saw me, it wasn't fear that was etched on your
features ... but shame.  Or guilt.  Or regret.

	If I could take back those fireballs, Naga, I would.  But maybe it
would have been postponing the inevitable.  Maybe it would have happened
in the next town, or the one after that, or maybe you'd have just run off.

	I don't know.  I'm just a genius sorceress who does black magic.

	What the hell do I know about love?

				THE END

Author's Notes

	Before anyone yells at me for destroying the cheerful, light-
hearted Slayers style, I was going to end this one with a shot of Naga
begging for food in some city far away from Lina.  As it is, they might
yet have a happy ending.  So don't yell at me.

	This *isn't* the version of Lina that shows up in "The Crosstime
Adventures of Athena and Sheila", either.  Continuity wise, this takes
place a bit after Slayers Next.  I really hope that I haven't spoiled the
conclusion therof, OR that of Slayers Perfect (the first movie) beyond
what I had to do.

	So ends my first completed Slayers fanfic.  I'd started two others
-- one on how Lina got her hair back to normal after beating Shabranigido,
the other one about her mother (another genius something or other with red
hair and a bad temper) inspired by a manga cover showing Lina posing with
her half-sister.

	Okay, this one's for Sean Gaffney (who suggested the theme),
Mercutio (who challenged me to do it) and Stefan Gagne (author of the best
Slayers fanfiction out there, certainly better than this little bit of
shoujoai smut).

	"The Slayers" was created by Hajime Kanzaka and brought to North
America by Software Sculptors and AD Vision.  This story, while
incorporating elements of motion pictures held under copyright by others,
is copyright 1998 of Chris Davies.

	Nobody Sue Me Okay?

Chris Davies, Advocate for Darkness, Part-Time Champion of Light.
"WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?" 
-- Death, in "Reaper Man", by Terry Pratchett.
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