Hey all! Annabelle here with Chapter 4! Thank you all so much for your comments and ratings, it's really inspired me to keep going with this story. I hope you like this chapter as much as the last, don't forget to rate and comment, I love reading them!
Romancing the Stone
Mike yawned, the morning light through the white curtains casting a blissful glow on the room. He scratched the back of his neck, his foot kicking the lump near the bottom of his bed. He sat up, leaning forward to give the lump a playful pat.
"It's time to get up, Tink." Mike watched the lump slide to the edge of the bed, disappearing over the edge with a thud.
"Owie," Tink muttered, standing up holding her bottom. She was wearing a tank top night shirt, one of the things Mike had ordered through Amazon, as a full dress. She wore her orange goggles too, refusing to part with them, even at night.
"How did you sleep?" Mike asked, sliding out of bed in just his boxers.
Tink responded with a yawn, her wide mouth revealing dozens of needle sharp teeth. "Tink sleep extra heavy. Mike hog bed."
"I did not hog the bed," he muttered. After the threesome in the bath, Naia had spent a solid hour brushing Tink's hair out, and then braiding it tightly against Tink's head, starting at the base of her horns and running behind her ears. Mike eventually wandered out his front door (with a wary glance at the swing) to retrieve the Amazon packages he had ordered; some replacement shirts for himself, and some clothes he thought Tink would like. Tink had cried when he showed her the shirts he had bought -they all fit her like little dresses, albeit the fit was odd. Naia informed Mike that Tink's skills extended to sewing as well, and that the goblin would likely alter the material later for a better fit.
"Mike hog bed, too much roll over. Goblin husband have bad dreams." Tink beat him to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She wasn't wrong-Mike, despite ending the night on the best note of his life, had suffered through the standard reoccurring dreams again. He stared at the scar tissue on his hip, pondering why his brain insisted on living through the worst moments of his life in dream form, his broken mother shrieking at him from the past.
"You okay?" Naia's voice drifted up from the tub. "I'm getting a vibe off of you."
"Just some old memories, I'm okay." Tink flushed the toilet, but the door remained shut. Wondering what was taking so long, Mike opened the door.
The goblin stared at the water swirling in the bowl, her goggles pulled down over her eyes. Mike didn't dare investigate any farther, preferring to wait.
"Bad pipe," Tink declared. "Water not fast enough. Bad pipe." She looked at Mike, her eyes magnified through her goggles. "Tink can fix, but need some parts."
"How can you tell?" Mike asked. The toilet seemed slow, but the house was old.
"Tink know." She tapped her goggles. "Tink good at fix, but goggles good at seeing what need fix. Tell Tink big water leak come soon."
"Shit. Is it safe to use again?"
"For now, is safe." Tink strolled out of the bathroom, giving Mike's butt a slap. "Need fix in couple days, or big mess. Tink look in basement today, check where pipes go." Her stomach growled. "Tink go after breakfast."
"Yeah, I'll make us something." Mike excused himself, peeing in the toilet. The tiny scratches on his arms and legs looked bad, but didn't hurt any longer, which was a good sign. He walked out of the bathroom, staring into the tub. "Is it weird that I'm just sort of accepting this? The last twenty four hours have been out of my depth."
"It's what makes you a good fit," Naia's voice informed him. "You can handle all of this because it isn't normal. When you got into a fight with Tink, you thought outside the box to make sure she stayed, even if it meant fucking a goblin. I know you did it partially for me, but you did it partially for the house without realizing it. It works through you, much as it does through me. If you had encountered a horny, human woman down there who wanted to suck your dick, you would have suffered a panic attack and come running inside."
Mike thought about this for a second. Naia was right. Somehow, the sheer lunacy of this whole situation wasn't even registering on his panic meter. "Did my Great Aunt handle it as well as me?"
"In some aspects, yes," Naia replied. "She accepted things quickly, but she didn't take your unique approach to tackling problems." Naia's tub echoed with her laugh. "At least, not right away. We spent plenty of nights together in the tub, just the two of us."
"Gonna be honest, not sure how to take that news right now." Mike pulled a shirt over his head. "I'll see you later."
"Stop out in the garden," Naia told him. "I would love the company."
"Can do." Mike left his room, walking silently down the long hall. He pondered every closed door he walked past, seeing each as an inevitable trap. What was hiding here, behind these quiet doors? Eventually, he would open them all, checking each room for another Tink, or even a Cecilia.
A chill went up his spine at the thought of the banshee. He needed to make nice with her, and he thought he had a good way to do it. He placed his hand on the top rail of the stairs, looking down the rest of the hall. Two doors on each side of the hall and a tall, ebony wardrobe with a silver handle.
Had that wardrobe always been there?
The sound of breaking glass startled him. He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Tink frowning at a busted bowl on the floor. She blushed when she saw him.
"Tink got startled," she explained, eying the bowl. "But Tink can fix."
"Don't bother." Mike grabbed a broom and swept up the glass. "Bowls are easily replaced." Tink nodded at this, following him into the kitchen. Mike pulled the box of Eggos out of the freezer.
"Are those good?" Tink asked. Mike nodded, shoving them in the toaster.
"Eggos? The best, as long as you know how to dress them up properly." Pulling a tub of butter from the fridge, he set syrup and peanut butter next to it. When the toaster popped, he stacked the Eggos on his plate, slathering them first in butter, then peanut butter. He topped them with some syrup, handing them to Tink. "Try that and let me know what you think?"
Tink took the plate, sniffing at the Eggos. "Tink not so sure," she informed him before picking up an Eggo. She bit into it, syrup and peanut butter running down her chin.
