#also. Isabela with hip dips is my religion thank you and good night

[eye-of-yelough]

Isabela and Anders friendship fluff, come get your Isabela and Anders friendship fluff, written at 4am!

summary: just a silly little micro fic about the flirty friendship dynamic Anders and Isabela should’ve had. Contains sexual references cos it’s Isabela

Justice, he is beginning to realise, isn’t very fond of Isabela.

When she’s around it’s a constant inner battle to not let the well meaning spirit bore her with another lecture that she won’t bloody listen to. He knows her, she’s stubborn. Lecturing doesn’t work on people like Isabela. But sometimes, on rare blessed days like today, justice isn’t righteous. Justice is tired. Dormant in the back of his mind.

And it’s on days like this that Isabela’s care free attitude and friendly-flirtyness is infectious. Makes him feel like his old self. And Maker, if he doesn’t appreciate the chance to feel that again.

So when she grabs a fistful of his coat to pull his face down, stands on the tips of her toes and plants a kiss just above his jaw bone that can only be described as filthy (and how she manages to make a cheek kiss feel sensual he’ll never know) he welcomes it, with an appreciative hum and a little squeeze on the soft flesh between her waist and hip.

She gasps, faux scandalised, as she pulls away, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Anders, engaging in improper healer/patient activities in your own clinic? In front of other patients? In front The Maker? At 9am on a tuesday? What will they say?”

“They’ll say I’ve gone mad. Been seduced by a desire demon disguised as an irresistible pirate goddess. And perhaps they’re right!” He moves his hands to grasp her shoulders, worrying the white material between his fingers and putting on his best damsel in distress act, fuck-me eyes and all. “They’ll drag me away in chains unless you take me with you! Oh, Captain! You will, won’t you?”

He wonders for a second if he’s gone a little far, considering that’s a very real fantasy of his that he just confessed. But she doesn’t need to know that.

But she just tilts her head back explodes into a fit of adorable giggles at his unexpected play-along of absurdity.

“Aww, unfortunately I can’t, sweet thing. No ship, no dice.” She separates from him suddenly, walking around the table she was just sitting on so it’s between them. She grabs the salve she came for and puts it into her pack. Then slowly leans forward with her hands flat on the table, daring him to get an eyeful. He rolls them instead. Cheap trick. But that won’t stop him from thinking about it later. She is Not helping with his sexual frustration.

“I have to go, business, but… thank you.” She drawls, just above a whisper.

“You’re so welcome.” He tries to hide his disappointment behind sarcasm.

“You gonna watch me walk away?”

He looks at the ceiling, pretending to consider for a moment. A very short moment.

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll add a little extra sway to it, just for you, baby.” She lifts one hand at a time off the table, maintaining eye contact for longer than necessary.

“ ‘Preciate it, sweetheart.” He dares a wink. He’ll feel so skeevy about this later, but he can’t make himself care. He wishes there was a way to nonverbally communicate how much the normalcy of this means to him. Words will come out all wrong, he’ll make it sound too romantic, too sincere, and it’ll scare her off. One of the few anchors of normalcy he has. He can’t lose it. He smiles and hopes it’s enough.

Isabela over-sways her hips so much she trips over her own feet, and it’s his turn to giggle.