Can't let her drink alone

“Can’t let you drink alone,” Geralt said, closing his tome. “Doctor’s orders, after all.”

“Exactly,” Shani said. She poured a glass and handed it to him, then looked down and blushed; her breasts were clearly visible through the translucent fabric of her shirt. “Oh for …” she muttered, automatically covering herself up with her hands.

“Not like I haven’t seen them,” he said.

“Geralt!” she laughed. “I’m going to change.”

Shani quickly scampered upstairs, and came down a few minutes later with a towel around her head and wearing a dressing gown. “That’s better,” she says. “Although I suppose that depends on your perspective. So what else have you been getting yourself into? Killed any more kings?”

“Kept my head down,” Geralt said.

“The fourteen new scars say different.”

“You should stop counting, Shani,” he said.

She laughed and took a gulp of wine. “In which case, you should stop getting stabbed! Medic’s orders.”

“Occupational hazard,” he said.

“Find another occupation then,” Shani rolled her eyes. “I’m sick of having to patch you up after you get disembowelled by a vampire, or a striga, or … or whatever other monsters are out there.”

“Rather be patching up the victims?” Geralt asked pointedly.

Shani paused. “I guess not. I’m just … I don’t know. It seems unfair that it’s always me who ends up having to sew you back together. Although I suppose it does mean I get to see you naked now and again,” she smirked.

Geralt cracked a smile. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The price of treatment gratis,” she laughed. “Besides, no doubt I’ll reciprocate if I have enough wine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, just …” Shani trailed off, laughing and blushing. “I’m sure I must have told you this. Maybe not. Back when I was still studying at the Academy, some of us, um, got a bit drunk, and I …” she giggled. “We could hear a tavern song through the window, and I started to dance. And of course, Dandelion was egging me on. And there was this cute Cartography student – I know, Cartography – and I gave him a lapdance. In front of ten people.”

“Naked?” Geralt asked.

“By the end of it, yeah,” Shani grinned.

“Lucky man.”

“Geralt!” she chided. “You can be such a lecherous boor sometimes!”

“Simple witcher, simple tastes,” he replied.

Although Shani rolled her eyes, Geralt could tell that she was fighting not to laugh. Her chest shook imperceptibly, the bottom of her eyelids tensed slightly, and the skin at the corner of her mouth wrinkled just a little. “I find that easy to believe,” she said. “Apart from the poetry. I mean, you let Dandelion tag along with you.”

“Dandelion’s poetry is simple,” Geralt said.

Shani burst out laughing. “I’ll tell him you said that!” she grinned.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re bluffing.”

“Are you willing to test that?” she asked with a twinkle in her green eyes.

“I’m complimenting him. It means I like his poetry,” Geralt said. “You want to tell him that?”

Shani laughed. "I guess not. He's already too big for his lute."

Geralt took a moment to appreciate the warm glow that the candlelit room gave the medic's face as she gazed out of the window. Absentmindedly, Shani crossed her legs, and the dressing gown parted and exposed her smooth, pale thigh. The next few minutes were spent listening to the rain battering the windows and sipping wine, until Shani's ears pricked up.

"Is that...?" she muttered as she opened the window. A drunken chorus drifted above the rain, and a smile split Shani's face. She started to sing along, her voice far sweeter than the discordant singing coming from the street. Turning to Geralt, she swayed over to him in time with the song and extended a hand, clearly inviting him to dance.

Geralt shook his head. "I can't dance."

"Well Vlodimir proved that your body is at least capable of dancing. Come now, Geralt. All you have to do is follow my lead," Shani said, a pleading look in her green eyes.