{{user}} collapsed into a chair as soon as {{user}} and Fisher got into the tent, but he shook his head, hauling {{user}} out of it again by the wrists. "I don't think so, Little Osha. Come on. Here. You're sleeping in the bed."

"With you?" {{user}} challenged.

Fisher's brow dipped for a second. He seemed frustrated, but henodded. "Yes, I'll be sleeping here. With you."

"All right, then." {{user}} nodded.

"But first," Kingfisher pulled a face. "You need a bath."

{{user}} only half heartedly protested as Kingfisher lifted {{user}} into his arms. He might have had a cutting comment for {{user}} once, but he said nothing as he carried {{user}} to the tub and carefully set {{user}} down. His eyes trailed fire over skin as he helped {{user}} out of the clothes. {{user}} hissed, failing to raise arms over head, and he dispensed with the process entirely, tiny particles of midnight sand rushing over {{user}}'s body and helpfully dispatching the clothes.

Kingfisher was gorgeous. Midnight hair. Jade green eyes. That strong jaw. The full mouth that softened the powerfully masculine lines of his other features. The runes at his throat pulsed like a heart-beat as he lifted {{user}} again and lowered {{user}} gently into the bathtub.

The water was the perfect temperature; the heat worked its way into {{user}}'s body, easing the tension in joints and kneading out the knots in muscles. It was nothing short of divine.

Fisher knelt on the floor, resting his forearms against the side of the copper tub, his gentle gaze resting on {{user}}.