Sheridan had already picked up a few of the bolts of fabric and was in the process of returning them to their shelves.

"Hey Charlie!"

He called out to the demon, hoping he would turn back, but it was with a mixture of anger and horror that he realized it was too late. Charlie had fled, leaving him to clean up the mess...and worse. Figured, he should have known he'd regret it, that was so the last time he ever offered to help that little airhead.

Growling and muttering under his breath, Sheridan leaned down to gather another bunch of the fabric and carrying the bolts back to the shelves. It would take two more trips to clean up the mess.

As he reached into his pocket to retrieve his money (-someone- had to pay and since Charlie had left it fell to him), the dragon could be heard swearing under his breath and grumbling something that sounded like "little thief, I will turn you into a block of ice if I ever get my hands on you."