"So, just how old are you?" Rutabaga asked.
"I'm of Legal Age," said Slippery. "I'm seventeen going on eighteen."
Rutabaga raised an eyebrow. "When will you be eighteen?"
"In an hour."
"You were born at midnight?"
"12:07 actually, but midnight sounds more dramatic."
"Seven minutes can make a difference between you being a licensed Assassin and a young killer," said Rutabaga. "You know the Assassins Guild has rules about that sort of stuff."
"Yes, but since it was my birthday, they made a slight exception," said Slippery.
"I see," said Rutabaga. "And since I don't kill Licensed Assassins, your teachers figured I'd be a safe enough target for you to go after, in case you failed."
Slippery chuckled nervously. "Something like that."
"Good to know," said Rutabaga. "Um, another question: you wouldn't happen to be carrying a Slimmer Blade by any chance?"
Slippery blushed. "I haven't gotten one of those yet; it isn't seemly for an Assassin to have that blade."
Rutabaga chuckled, opened another drawer, and pulled out a blade that was, at most, the length of a woman's palm, and half as wide as a finger. "There are plenty of women who claim that these are more effective at preventing unwanted pregnancies than even a Zonkier, especially if the sex is unwanted. After all, the touch of cold metal has been proven to instantly halt a man's sex drive. There are plenty of Ladies of Negotiable Affection, and seamstresses, and others, who swear by them, and never leave home without their Slimmer Blades."
"That sounds like some sort of advertisement," said Slippery.
Rutabaga looked at the very narrow blade. "Actually, it's written on the blade itself. See the very small print?"
"Wow! They really etch that in all of these blades?" Slippery asked.
"Every one I've bought anyways," said Rutabaga. "I issue them to my female guards, and I recommend that they take classes from Madam Sally She's A Big One Rose, which reminds me - I'd best get one for Butcher, and have her take those classes." He looked at Slippery. "I don't have any personal experience myself, but I'm told they're very comfortable, and no one else even knows that they are even there, until they find out the hard way."
"You know that most Unlicensed Thieves don't bother an Assassin," said Slippery.
"I'm not talking about those guys," said Rutabaga. "There's always that someone who sees a pretty woman, and decides to force himself on her; especially if you decide to not be wearing black on that day."
"You have a point there," said Slippery.
"Good," said Rutabaga. "Now, would you mind getting dressed; I'm going to help you celebrate your birthday."
He handed her the blade.
Slippery looked at the blade, and looked at him. "Celebrate my birthday?"
"Can't take you out for failing an exam, but I can take you out for your birthday."
Slippery looked at the blade again. "Um, I don't know how to wear this."
Rutabaga smiled. "I guess I'll show you." He pressed his body against hers, accepted the blade, lowered his hand, and placed it by the inside of her legs. "First things first; handle goes up, and the tip points down." He then gave her a slow, and gentle, kiss.
A while later, Slippery finished wrapping the cloth around her face. "You're right; I can hardly feel it."
Rutabaga chuckled. "Removing it is just as simple too; there's always a reason a Lady of Negotiable Affection has their client wait a bit before they commence to business, that being one of them. Plus, it helps to get them ready for the next part."
Slippery chuckled nervously. "I can imagine how."
Rutabaga grinned. "So, have you ever eaten at a dwarf restaurant?"
"Um, I can't say that I have," said Slippery.
"I know of a place that serves some very excellent rat; grilled, roasted, poached, broiled, or burnt in a fire and covered in ketchup." He then close his eyes and smiled. "Of course, none of their cooking comes close to father's Rat and Crow Stew: A minimum of one rat, a minimum of one crow, followed by as much garlic, onions, leeks, carrots, and potatoes as you want, plus whatever spices you wish to add. He always added curry to his, along with a pinch of salt and pepper."
"I see you have some fond memories of him," said Slippery.
"The only time I've ever seriously seen him upset was at my nineteenth birthday party; someone had delivered a cake, a very large one might I add, and since it was for me, I decided to have the first slice. Thing was, it was one of those pop-out cakes, and out jumped a woman dressed in black, and armed with two swords. Problem for her was this; I thought that she was part of the party, and was a Lady of Negotiable Affection that my parents had hired to pretend to be an Assassin coming to claim my virginity. She soon found herself without any clothes, or weapons, and I was enjoying her. Needless to say, she was quite embarrassed at having not only been foiled by her mark, but of the fact that the mark decided to have sex with her."
"Yes, Lady Two-Swords Too Sharp Blades told me about that," said Slippery. "And every time after that, any time a female assassin went after you, you had sex with them."
"Saves me the expense of hiring a Lady of Negotiable Affection," said Rutabaga. "That being said, I've never heard any real complaints from them, aside from being disarmed so thoroughly."
"So I've heard," said Slippery.
"Only real issue was the fact that me and her made a bit of a mess when we rolled into the cake, when I was trying to take her ninth knife out of her hands. She had thirty-seven of them strapped all over her body," said Rutabaga. "The Head Assassin had to laugh when she made her report to him over her failure; made refunding Lord Wonsin of his fee less painful. Of course, Lord Wonsin soon found out that mother didn't like someone targeting her son, all because I arrested his for being too rough with an off-duty Lady of Negotiable Affection."
"I heard about that to," said Slippery. "I've also heard other things about you as well."
"I'm sure most of them are slightly exaggerated," Rutabaga said, as he finished putting his own clothes on. He looked it over. He looked like most any other guard, save the collar around his neck, which had a badge that was rather plain, if shiny. "I'm glad I can wear this plain, and usable, outfit, as opposed to my Formal Outfit; I wish someone would set that horrible thing on fire." He grabbed the only thing of finery that set him apart from the other guards, a red cape with gold embroidering. Other officers might wear red capes, but none had the gold thread, and he was all right with just that detail. After all, the cape helped keep the rain off when need be.
He looked at Slippery. "I see you're dressed. Let's go."
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