with either of the other two men. He felt far too vulnerable. He wasn't even wearing his make-up.

''Breaking the shower won't help you for long, rat-pirate!'' the bounty hunter shouted, firing randomly in front of him. He didn't realise that the smoke was coming from his target, and this made Morrigan laugh loudly from somewhere within the shroud. With each click of the pistol's hammer, Morrigan relaxed. It wasn't quite the same as surrendering to the weightless oblivion he would have otherwise had, had his shower not been interrupted by his drama-queen of a First Mate or the irritating head-hunter with the ridiculously pompous name. Still... it was enough to distract him from his previously dangerous line of thought. ''Show yourself!'' Futtershuckle shouted, waving his hand rapidly infront of his nose to try clear his vision. His hood was suddenly yanked down.

''Why? Don't you like blindfolds during foreplay?'' Morrigan whispered in his ear. Panicking, the bounty hunter span around and fired yet more shots into the smoke, coughing wildly as surprise forced him to inhale a lungful of the poisonous miasma. ''I'll give you one chance to turn and get the fuck out of my room. I'll give you to the count of three. Unless you get naked. There's a strict no-clothes policy in place here, and I'm a fucking stickler for rules.''

This was apparently the final straw for the poor bounty hunter, who, upon feeling Morrigan's hot breath against the shell of his other ear, fell backwards into the bathtub full of ice-cold water.