Eternal Sapphtember — Girls who have that certain je ne sais quoi
“You slimy gobshite!” Naia says, shoving Gramme’s shoulder and nearly toppling her off her barstool. “I know it’s your fault!”
Gramme sputters in outrage, shielding her drink. “What? I didn’t do anything!” she protests.
Naia glares at her. “There was an elf in some kinda shiny uniform in my shop today,” she hisses. “All ohoho madame, we know you got it! The fuck did you steal now? And don’t even think I’m gonna take it off your hands, I ain’t having any elven detective on my case.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Gramme straightens her sleeves with enormous, wounded dignity, pouting. “What kind of thing did they say they were looking for?”
“I don’t fucking know!” Naia says. “Do I look like I know what bits of ethereal elf tat are called what? You tell me what you stole!”
“Nuffin!” Gramme says, wounded and emphatic. “…Yet.”
“OH,” Naia says meanly. “OH, I SEE.”
“But look, they can’t be after you for something you haven’t fenced and I haven’t even stolen (yet),” Gramme says reasonably. “What was it they said?”
“I dunno!” Naia says, scowling. “All ohoho madame, I think you have a certain je ne sais quoi, like I’d even know if I saw one—”
“Oh, no,” Gramme says pityingly. “No, look, that’s just elf for flirting. Means they like your bum.”
“No it isn’t!” Naia says furiously. “You just want me to think that so I’ll sound stupid if they come back and you can have a laugh about it!”
“Well I bet you looked stupid anyway,” Gramme says, nose in the air. “They were all I like your bum in elf and you went I don’t even have one! Never seen one in here in my life!”
“No,” Naia says, folding her arms. “…Just told ‘em to fuck off and stop tryin’ to bamboozle me.”
“Well.” Gramme sloshes her drink around a bit and takes a thoughtful sip. “…Not the worst thing to tell an elf that’s flirting with you—”
“Don’t you even think of bringing me whatever you’re about to steal,” Naia warns her, and stomps back out.
