"You're clear." I sag in place after Apricot says we're out of sight. "And, Amelia says to call you a dumbass for showing off to the point where you nearly drained your mana."

"I really should have just knocked them out." I pant and start sucking down a smoothie while waiting for my magic to recover. "But, the fuckers annoyed me and I wanted to teach them a lesson."

"Or maybe, just use a regular gag next time." Apricot slips off of my back so she can look me in the eyes. "That trick with their voices was as stupidly wasteful as it was sexy. I love watching you do magic, but I like watching you push yourself that hard about as much as Amelia does." She flicks me on the forehead with a finger to prove her point.

"Sorry." I rub the spot she just hit. "I'll try to do better in the future. Feel free to hit me again the next time it looks like I'm doing something stupid."

"I don't want to hit you, dummy." She moves my hand so she can kiss my forehead. "Neither does Amelia; we don't want to see you hurt at all, least of all by yourself. Now, come on. Let's go find that clockmaker, the shop is just a few blocks that way."

She takes my hand and tries to tow me down the street, but I resist and pull her in for a tight hug instead

"Thank you. Both of you." There is a whole world of emotion in those simple words. "And, sorry again for worrying you." I press my lips against hers, less a kiss and more a way to cover up for my lack of words.

I know my personality, and I know that it has changed since I died. I'm a lot bolder than before, like 'tease my girlfriend while walking down the street' bold. But, also 'take on a gang just to show off' bold.

The former is fine as long, as I don't get too wild. But, the latter, that's just stupid. The problem is that that aspect of mine comes from a deep-seated fear of losing everything, again.

And, even though I know all this about myself, I still find myself doing stupid shit to impress them. Amelia likes tall guys, so I let myself be tall and push my body to catch-up. Apricot likes magic, so I push my magic at nearly every opportunity, even going so far as to improvise a spell to stop someone from talking mid-mugging.

I have trouble even thinking about all this clearly, let alone speaking about it. So, I let my kiss do the talking, trying my level best to pour all that emotion into Apricot and, through her, Amelia.

"Mmm." Apricot licks her lips. "We're still going to torture you later, just as much as you were torturing us. But, apology accepted... And, quit worrying so much; neither of us is going anywhere."

"Pesky, perceptive, pixies." I faux grumble while my heart leaps in joy.

"Yes, we are." She sneaks in another kiss before letting the issue drop.

"So, Ilyssa wasn't my type." I change the subject. "But, since you two are punishing me anyways. Would you mind dressing up like guardswomen? Not in the local uniform, but one like from where I came from?" My mind immediately goes to Karen Gillan in her policewoman outfit from Doctor Who.

"Somehow I doubt that whatever you're going to make for us will be very accurate." Apricot smirks as we walk hand in hand to the clockmakers.

"Mostly..." I hedge. "Sure the skirts aren't really worn anymore, and they were never that short, but... Oh, gods. I hope Melanie has found some good dyes, I need you two in black silk stockings."

"Hehehehe." The pixie giggles at my outburst. "You can think about our creamy, smooth, thighs wrapped up in silk later. We're at the clockmaker's."

"That was a yes though, right?" I practically beg. "Please say that was a yes."

She just smirks and opens the door.

"Welcome to Sinclair's." A cheery, older man hops up from his stool behind the counter to greet us. "Please, feel free to look around. If you don't find anything that speaks to you, I can easily custom make something to your liking."

"Thank you." I nod to the man, who is starting to come off as a little desperate. "I'm not looking for a clock right now, but a machinist. Guardsman Mark told me that you used to work with his father at the mill."

"Virgil's boy?" Sinclair's whole demeanor changes, he drops the overly cheerful shopkeep routine and becomes a little more real. "I'm sure the lad means well, but I'm not in that line of work anymore."

"That is a shame." I bring out the turbine I was working on while decorating the house earlier. "Would you be able to recommend one? I'm doing my best with trial and error, but machines just aren't my thing."

I push conjured water through the pipe, spinning the turbine which in turn rotates the bevel gears at the top of the shaft. The only problem is that the damned thing leaks where the shaft sticks out. All the water evaporates into nothingness before it touches the floor, but the shopkeep's eye's still go wide.

"That is an interesting design." He eyes it like a starving man, and I know I already have him hooked. "But, like I said, I'm not in that line of work any longer. And, besides, even if you packed that full of oiled leather it would still leak."

"Rather unfortunate that no one is making a product that is waterproof and can be molded to any shape needed." I pull out a rubber ball and bounce it off the floor on my way out of the shop. "Thank you for your time, I suppose I'll just have to keep looking elsewhere."

"Alright, you son of a thorn bush, let me see that." The man grumbles in a thick accent.

"Hmm?" I turn back around with an arched eyebrow. "Oh, this? It's just a little something that I've been working on." He snatches it out of the air when I bounce it over to him.

"Any shape you say." He asks while closely examining the ball.

"And, with different properties based on the exact formulation." I wave my hand and his counter fills with a sample of rubber products. "I'm tired of mixing everything by hand though, and the alchemist I hired isn't strong enough to use the machine I built. Not for very long, at least."

"Nng. Buy a clock." He says it in a gruff voice, but I can hear the pleading in his tone. "I started this cursed shop to sell clocks, but even though mine are just as good and even cheaper than..." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to collect himself. "Look, you want a machinist? Then buy a fucking clock and I'll take a look at your setup."

"Hah!" I bark out a laugh and look around the shop, soon settling on one that looks simple at first, but was elegantly crafted with high-quality materials. "That one will do." A small bag of gold adds itself to the clutter on his countertop and the clock vanishes into storage.

"Amelia's not going to be happy that you didn't even try to haggle." Apricot has a twinkle in her eye as she whispers in my ear. "If she wasn't going to punish you before, she definitely is now."

"Quit teasing the man and let him tell me what he needs." Sinclair says in a no-nonsense tone.

"The mixer is most important for now." I answer after taking a steadying breath of my own. "But, I have quite a few plans that could use a skilled machinist to bring them to life." I recreate the mixing rollers minus the pedal attachment. "I can run a pipe upstream for water, but I need a turbine to power it. One that isn't going to leak like a sieve, that is."

"Alright, it looks like you'll need a bit of torque, so we'll need to gear this down." He plays around with the turbine. "After we get your turbine working properly that is. Cut it in half so I can see inside."

The next forty-or-so minutes were spent following Sinclair's directions and answering his questions. He became quite excited at the prospects of rubber belts and roller chains when the topic of bicycles came up after he asked how I was currently powering the mixer.

"Thank you very much for your time." I say after we get, not only a fully functioning turbine that didn't even dribble under high pressure, but a redesigned mixer to go with it. "I'm not in the market for any more clocks, but if you change your mind about doing more machinist work. Feel free to stop by, we're just outside the north gate."

"Wait, you're the mage that stopped the blight?" He does a double-take.

"I just provided a bit of knowledge and... maybe sped things up a little bit." I wave my hand in negation. "Everyone else did all the hard work. Hells, Apricot here must have flown a few hundred kilometers all together while I just sat in the yard."

"Uh-huh." He doesn't seem to buy my story. "Well, I still say I'm just a clockmaker. But, who says a clockmaker can't have a hobby? I may just stop by the next time I have a bit of free time. At the very least, you're easier to work with than the mages I'm used to dealing with."

"Uh-huh." I parrot his words back at him. "Until later then." I depart with a smile and a wave.

"Off to Elise's clinic, now?" Apricot asks after we step outside.

"Yeah." I nod. "Hope you don't mind taking the rickshaw; I'm not sure I'm going to survive what you two have planned for me as it is. The last thing I need to do is add to my coming punishment with a repeat of our trip here."

"Fine, but you have to repeat that trick where you shapeshifted the little mouths on your vines later." She lets out an involuntary shudder just thinking about it. "I cannot wait to experience those latched onto Amelia's sensitive nipples."

"Well, I suppose that all depends on whether the wicked guardswoman is wearing her uniform or not when she decides to punish this poor Plantkin for his harmless pranks." I say with a grin and bring out the pedicab.

"You're just digging the hole deeper, you criminal scum, you." Apricot laughs a wicked laugh.

***