Inane Verbiage

XVIII

I blink at the distinctive tower in the distance. "Ay poofed to Paris?"

Eros looks equally astonished but gets over it quickly, already striding down the deserted  (which is the oddest thing, because I could have sworn that Paris is bustling at night) cobbled path. "Unless the magic tracers in His Majesty's throne room were wonky or he's a terrible portal-maker. Both of which I doubt, so chances are that Ay really did teleport here, although why I have no idea."

Great.

 "So... what do we do now?"

 He grimaces at that, turning a corner as though he knows where he's going. "I have no idea. Since there's no sign of cats at the moment, I think we had better make good use of this time."

 "For?"

 The streetlamps highlights the shadows in his face and the hard lines on his bare chest as he shoots me a dry look. "I'm not sure about you, but I definitely have no intention of fighting felines in breeches."

 Oh. "Good point." I hurry after him, tight breeches protesting my every move. "So you're going to conjure up clothes, then?" 

"Nah." Eros shakes his head at that, which catches me by surprise. "I need to save energy." 

I blink at him in confusion (wait conjuring needs energy? No wonder he seemed so out of it after poofing! up Tom and Co.). "Then how are we going to change?"

The grin the god shoots me at that is pure mischief. "Since all the shops are open and no one is there…" 

Oh. Oh my god.

#

"You're a terrible, terrible person," I tell Eros as I watch him pull down yet another pair of designer jeans. "I should turn you over to the authorities and cackle evilly as you rot away in jail."

 He merely laughs at that and ruffles my hair as I glare up at him."I don't see you stopping me, Toilet Girl."

 "Hah don't push your luck - just because the police station was utterly deserted when we passed it by just now doesn't mean that I can throw you in a cell and bash the key into little pieces."

The ash-blonde god just scoffs as he plucks a navy dress shirt from the rack and slips it on (which is supposed to look odd with those breeches of his, but somehow fits him). "I'd like to see you try."

I can only scowl in response, because he has a point. Knowing him, he'd probably just conjure up a key or turn the lock himself. I reluctantly back down and let him continue pilfering through the poor shop, plopping onto the cashier table and crossing my arms as  purse my lips in disapproval. "You kind of suck. You'd better poof! up replacements after it all, otherwise I'll make sure I'll bring some ancient shaman to cast a anti-magic spell when I throw you into jail."

Eros flashes me his signature half-grin, waving his free hand dismissively (as the pairs of jeans slung across the other hand swing precariously as he browses through yet another rack). "Yeah yeah yeah. We'll talk about that when Ay's being crushed to dust in the Underworld." He then thrusts a bundle of clothes into my arms (although I have no idea where he got them from because last I checked all he was holding as his beloved jeans). "Now put these on - I think I've seen enough of your bra to last a lifetime. And don't even try to change any of the clothes here - I just put a spell on them so the cats won't sense you, and I'm not going to do that again if you decide to go all vain on me."

"Way to compliment a girl, Toilet Boy." With an eyeroll I hop off the counter and shake out the clothes - only to stare at them in horror. "Holy poop I'm supposed to wear these?"