Homey is the first word to come to mind when looking at the farmhouse's kitchen. Dark, wood-paneled wainscoting covers the walls to about waist height, dark beige wallpaper continuing to the ceiling. Twin refrigerators occupy the north wall, facing the large six-burner stove on the south. The kitchen counter runs the length of the eastern wall, broken only by the double-basin sink. Cabinets run above and below the counter and a twin-pane window is set in the wall above the sink. A small pantry is set into an alcove alongside the refrigerators, presumably holding the deep freezer as well as shelves of dry goods.
Some twelve feet above the floor, a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, lighting the dining room and casting long shadows over the bar to the kitchen. A long table occupies the center of the dining room, three chairs setting along each side, and one on each end. On the west wall, a large window looks out on the trees alongside the western pasture. Set into the north wall is a large cabinet, its glass doors closed on shelves containing a full compliment of fine china and glassware as well as a few decorative nicknacks. On the east, a wide bar separates the dining room from the kitchen.
An opening in the southern wall allows passage to the front entryway of the house, while a sliding glass door in the kitchen opens to a clearing behind the house.
The lane wends its way back and around the farmhouse to here, where it widens into a broad, grassy sward contained only by the woods which encircle it on three sides. Buildings break up the purity of the landscape: an open-sided structure which serves as a garage and the big barn, empty of livestock, to the east. A good-sized vegetable and herb garden furrows the land south of the barn, while a pyramid-like pile of rocks, of similar consistency to the gravel of the lane, rests a few yards south of the garage.
North of the buildings, the fields have long been fallow, hastening a conversion from farmland to natural prarier. A sliding glass door allows admittance to the farmhouse, the interior obscured by Levolor(tm) blinds in a wood-grain pattern. The lane leads out around the house to the southwest. The discerning can just barely pick out the beginnings of a faint path into the woods towards the southeast.
A lathe-turned wooden railing runs the length of the porch save where the steps are, well-worn with use. To the right of the stairs, a wide swing is suspended from the overhang which shelters this area; to the left, a small table is the centerpiece for several chairs pulled around it, all of which face out to the front yard and the fields and trees beyond. The biting cold of winter is tempered somewhat by the sheltering of the roof, but it is still enough to make the porch an inhospitable place to tarry for long. Even the low shrubs seem to avoid it, their leafless woody stems closed in tight upon themselves.
An aging screen door newly refurbished stands between the heavy inner door of the house and the outside air. Four steps lead down to the lane, a number of pots with small flower seedling carefully arranged alongside them.
In his late teens and recovering from a recent growth spurt, Cameron is tall, and comfortable with it. Bearing aspects of his predominantly Scottish heritage, the young Australian has deep blue eyes, and straight, blond hair that he keeps long enough at the fringe to nearly cover his eyebrows. The corners of his mouth are always slightly upturned, occasionally lending the impression that he's secretly enjoying his own personal joke.
Physically, Cameron is very lean, but fit and toned as a result of regular exercise, and now-forgotten hopes of cross-country running. Since arriving at the Farmhouse, his taste in clothing has changed little, and he still wears a long, heavy, black suede jacket, loose-fitting denim jeans, and wears boots that all conspire to make him look bigger, and taller, than he really is.
When he speaks, it is with a pleasant bass voice, complete with that wonderfully unadulterated Aussie accent, and when he moves, it is subdued, with little wasted motion.
This is a stocky man, perhaps in his middle twenties, with a uniform sandy brown hair, except for a startlingly red shock in the front, a clear blue eye, and aside from the scar running from his left eye down across his nose, behind a black eye patch, a rather plain face. Steven is dressed in a ruddy red flannel shirt, a pair battered jeans and a down filled vest. A pair of hiking boots are laced up around his feet. His exposed skin is tanned, hard, and calloused -- and his left hand is missing the index and pinky fingers, both severed cleanly at the joint. Steven speaks with a rich baritone, his words carrying a very slight trace of a brogue.
Summer's name suits her well: the young woman has a fresh girl-next-door prettiness about her, a clarity of feature and a shine in her eyes. She looks to be in her late teens. Her complexion is a little dusky, tanned from long hours in the sun but not as dark as Latin skin. Long, wavy light-brown hair falls nearly to her waist when loose, although she often braids it. Her eyes are an interesting shade of hazel, bright and intelligent, green mixing with gold and brown in the irises. Well-defined features, a strong jawline, and a longish nose fall a little short of beautiful by most standards. She's neither tall nor short at about 5'6", her build willowy but not quite thin, and she is clearly a person given to activity and motion.
She wears faded jeans, and a thick wool sweater in a heathery green-brown that brings out the color of her eyes. The hems ruck over the tops of rugged brown hiking boots, spattered with mud.
Alicia knocks lightly on the door, then peers her head inside the kitchen.
Bernie is sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. She does have a drink: it's a glass of orange juice. She glances up a bit at the knock, then right back to her eggs.
Alicia comes into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. She has a small package wrapped up in some old newspaper with a shoe lace tied around it to form a bow tie. "Hi... um... silly lil tree hugger has come bearing the gift of 'stuff'."
Bernie looks up again, fork pausing in its vicious attacks on the poor defenseless eggs, and regards the other cub silently for a few moments, expression a bit sullenly stony. Then, though, one corner of her mouth quirks up a bit, and she asks, wryly, "...you sure you don' wanna check this isn' a screwdriver or somethin', first?" The orange juice gets a light tap with the tines of the fork.
Alicia smiles and heads over to the table, placing the small gift down. "I'll make ya take a breathalizer test later." She smirks, then hugs the Gnawer tightly in her arms, sucking in a deep breath.
Bernie returns the hug, sighing deeply. "...it isn't," she remarks, quietly.
"I know." She softly whispers, kissing your cheek once. "Look, I'm sorry..bigger moon, bitchier coggie.."
That elicits a tiny laugh from the Gnawer. "Yeah, well. That timea th' month an' all, huh? Not so perfick for me bein' sweetness an' light either, I guess..." She pulls away a bit then, "...not gonna d'cide you don't want me 'round 'gain, are you?"
Alicia shakes her head. "I never said that the first time. I just need a little bit of space, ya'know? Just to get the tribal stuff down pat, make Dante happy, then go back to being reg'lar o' me." She gives you another quick squeeze. "I want you around me, you are my best friend, and one day, we're ganna be pack mates too. I talked to Kaz 'bout talking to Dante, to let me rite with you in a few weeks."
Bernie seems slightly relieved to hear that, though there's still a touch of wariness. "Yeah? That'd be very cool, 'f we went t'gether... an' you still wanna be in my pack, sure? I'm all, I dunno, I hate everythin' bein' all uncertain th' way things've been lately..." She slips one of her hands up through her curls, and then looks directly at Alicia, serious. "Felt like you'd both 'bandoned me."
Alicia shakes her head. "Nuh uh Bernie, we're ganna be like till' death do us part an shit. Consider us married." She smiles, then winks, wiggling her brows suggestivly.
In the front rooms, Tom opens the door a little bit. "Um, hello?"
Bernie snickers, the comment breaking her seriousness. "'zat -legal- in this state? An' what'll Tom think?" She grins, and bonks her head gently down, sideways, onto Alicia's shoulder before sitting up again, and eyeing the package, curiosity getting the better of her. "...a'ight... so what'd y'get me?"
Alicia grins and says simply. "I don't think Tom will mind. He's the submi-- HI TOM!" Wow, boy does she look stupid. She glances over into the hallway, grinning stupidly. "Just open it up." She hisses to Bernie, blushing, heading out to the living room.
In the front rooms, Tom opens the door and steps in. "Um," he says, peering back. "I'm not interruptin' nothing, am I?" he asks, scratching the back of his head slowly and blinking. "Just thought I'd stop by and say hi while there was a study lull.
Bernie giggles, leaning across the table (barely avoiding getting scrambled eggs on her shirt as her chest dips dangerously close to the food) and pulling the little newspaper-and-shoelace wrapped gift toward her. "Heya, Tom!" she calls to the kin, starting to remove the paper from the little package.
In the front rooms, Alicia smiles and walks up to the kin, having a bit of a sway in her hip. She gazes up at him, poking him once in the chest. "Bernie and I were just 'bout to go upstairs, and fuck our brains out. You game to join us, hot stuff?"
In the front rooms, Tom eyes her a moment, getting a wry smirk. "Were yeh now? And without me, too. I'm heartbroken." He turns and feigns a sniff. "But, I guess if I'm invited -now- it'll be good."
Bernie finishes opening the paper, and withdraws a candy necklace, a little candy heart labeled "love" hanging from it. She smiles widely at it, and seems about to say something to Alicia when the other cub speaks. At her comment, Bernie blushes bright red, the shade only deepening at Tom's reply. She wraps the necklace two or three times around her wrist as a bracelet, and stays out of the banter for now.
In the front rooms, Alicia shrugs her shoulders, then gets a wicked grin. Glancing into the kitchen, she calls out. "Ooooh.. pack sister.... This kin here thinks he's man enough to tame two Garou on the Galliard's moon. I think that we should test this one's stamina.." She wets her lips, then slides one hand up along the firm muscle of Tom's chest, fingertips gracing the fabric gently, teasingly so as her eyes turn to meet his in a fierce game of dominance. "You want top, or bottom; Bernie?"
In the front rooms, Tom knows better, though. See, Tom, on top of being a real looker, is smart when he has to be. A game of dominace by -staring-? Ha! He decides to throw her off guard as best he can. "I've been working out," he says with a grin, taking the hand that pokes his chance. While he gives it a squeeze, he leans in and gives her a few kisses right to the lips.
Bernie continues to do her impression of a tomato. "Um." She blinks once or twice. Well, Alicia's got to be joking, right? And she's supposed to be a Ragabash, isn't she? Despite the blush, she manages to sound fairly casual, "...oh, I dunno, 'lish. You pick."
In the front rooms, Alicia leans fully into the lips of her lover, fingers reaching up to sink in the back of his hair. She pulls him close, working her lips in a hungry fashion, nearly growing between the parted flesh as she licks at the roof of his mouth for a moment. Drawing back, almost hesitantly, she mummers. "You get top Bernie."
In the front rooms, Tom chuckles softly, pressing his forehead to Alicia's a moment. "You're the best girlfriend ever," he says with a chuckle and a wink after the somewhat passioned kiss.
"'kay!" Bernie calls back, still pink, and utterly unsure what the hell she's agreeing to, even if it is only hypothetical. She finishes off her orange juice, and takes the glass and her plate of egg remnants to the sink.
In the front rooms, Alicia grins and gazes back into Tom's eyes, then softly whispers. "You better be gentle with her, this will end up being her first time." She leans up and quickly kisses him once more, then snags him by the brim of his pants, tugging him to the door way as she peers in. "Attic?" She asks Bernie, she picked positions, she can pick the room.
In the front rooms, Tom acks! as he's tugged along, shuffling along behind. He'd probably be pissed if he actually noticed he's being drug around like a dog on a leash, but he's having too much fun with the banter. He doesn't take Alicia seriously either, though, figuring she's tormenting her friend.
"Aw, gee," Bernie replies in mock disappointment, still not taking this seriously, "You mean the living room won't do? Or right here? A'ight, I s'pose th' Attic's okay..."
Alicia grins and nods her head. "Attic." She turns back to Tom, lifting her gaze up to him. "You up to it?" She says in a soft, husky voice. "I don't mind sharing, not with her, my best friend, and you always did kinda hint 'bout wanting two of us at once."
Tom chuckles a moment, but then it fades. "Urh, wha? You're serious?" he asks, raising his brow. He rubs the back of his head, squinting a bit, "Ah, I think this is somethin' you better talk to your friend about first."
Bernie blinks slowly at Alicia again, gaining back some of the blush she'd gradually been losing. "The who what? Wait, you were joking, right?" She looks not so much shocked as just really embarrassed.
Alicia clears her throat a bit, her own cheeks red now. "Errrm...." She pauses for a moment, then looks over her shoulder to Bernie. Wetting her lips, she shakes her head no. "I'm not joking..."
Tom just grins and shakes his head slightly. He, of course, expects the other not to want it. She hardly knows him and vice-versa. He just watches and listens at this point, though.
Bernie looks at Alicia for a few moments, and then at Tom. She almost seems to be considering it, though whether because she wants to, out of curiosity, or just to be fair to Alicia and her suggestion is hard to tell. After several seconds, she bites her bottom lip lightly, and shakes her head a little. "'licia..." she starts, and pushes a curl back behind her ear. Immediately, it pops back out to freedom. "C'n I talk t' ya privately a few?"
Alicia nods her head and pats Tom on the stomach, then heads fully into the kitchen to her friend. She swallows a deep breath, shifting slightly on her feet. "Sure...lets."
Tom shrugs and steps back into the living room until called. He doesn't seem bothered by the situation.
Bernie nods slightly, and speaks quietly to Alicia, gesturing only a little bit.
Alicia senses "Bernie seems slightly uncomfortable, but there's a kind of wistfullness there, as well. "...'lish... um. I'm like... kinda flattered you'd wanna include me, I guess? Only... I dunno, it'd be kinda like... d'cidin' t' learn how t' swim by enterin' th' 'lympics. 'f y'know what I mean. An'... well, an'..." She trails off, biting her bottom lip again, unsure how to explain the next part."
Alicia takes a deep breath and reaches out, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, peering into her eyes for a moment, whispering back.
In the front rooms, Tom of course pays it little attention. He makes himself busy by idly glancing through some magazines.
Alicia whispers "Look...This is...weird yes.. but it can be fun you know. I mean, if you don't want ta' lose yer' virginity or something, then just have fun, ya'know.. play around, be curious." She squeezes your shoulders once more. "I kinda wanna do one big crazy thing wi' ya, before we go off ta' war an rite... an well.. Tom.. he's a nerd, of course he'll go for it, he'll, I'm sure he's praying ta' Gaia that you say yes."
Bernie looks rather torn, and runs a hand through her hair again, softly replying to the other girl.
Alicia senses "Bernie bites her bottom lip again. "...well... I don' wanna lose it yet. Even 'f I am th' only virgin in th' whole city, far's I know. I dunno, maybe I'm all old fashioned an' shit, but I'd wanna be with a guy I really knew an' cared about a lot, for that. An'... I admit t' bein' curious an' all, an' I don' wanna letcha down or anythin', an' it's not like Tom isn't pretty nice, from what little I've talked 't him yet, an' he's, y'know, really good lookin' an' all... but... I mean..." She stops, and sighs, shoulders losing an inch or so of altitude as she considers how to explain. After a pause, she gives up on eloquence, and just whispers miserably, "...he's not Matt. He doesn't make me feel like that. An' I don' wanna just do stuff for th' sake of doin' stuff with someone I barely know, just 'cause I can't have who I want. 'm not ready for that. So I can't. Even for you. 'm sorry..." She swallows slightly, taking a moment to study the fascinating toes of her boots."
Alicia nods her head and leans over, drawing the girl into her arms with a tight hug. Brushing her cheek gently against hers, she softly whispers.
In the front rooms, Tom hums softly, finally just leaning back in the couch and peering around.
Alicia whispers "Its ok.. I understand.. I Just want you to be happy." Shifting a bit, she once more whispers softly. "I woulda been honored if you said yes tho', you are the 'only' person I ever would do this with, because I trust you.""
Bernie smiles slightly, directed down at her boots, and murmurs something in response, lifting her head a bit. It looks like things might be wrapping up.
You whisper "Maybe, someday, later, I'll be ready t' do somethin' like that. An' I'm kinda honoured you'd want me to, y'know? But... yeah. Like I said. You know." to Alicia.
Alicia nods her head and smiles, then softly whispers to her. "Well.... guess what?"
In the front rooms, Tom wasn't looking so doesn't know what they're doing. He stands, though and stretches his arms over his head, giving a long yawn.
Bernie tilts her head, curiously, and quietly asks, "...you sighted Elvis camping on the bawn... aliens took you out to dinner... 9 dentists outta 10 recommend sugar-free condoms for their patients who... I'm not gonna go there right now... I dunno.. what?"
Alicia leans forward, kissing her best friend hard on the lips, sliding her hands around the back of Bernie's neck. She holds that pose for a moment, letting herself get carried away for only a bit, then pulls back, smiling. "Chicken Butt." With a flip of her hair, she heads back into the living room. (That was for you Tom)
In the front rooms, Tom just sorta blinks. He happened to be peering in the general direction. He watches, then grins as Alicia walks toward him. He doesn't ask, probably deciding he doesn't want to know. Or maybe he just thinks its a good show. Usually he has to pay good money for that kinda thing.
Bernie looks stunned for multiple moments after being kissed, the blush quite definitely back. She opens her mouth, as if to say something, but then just closes it again, and blinks a couple times. Recovering a bit, she half-smiles, and shakes her head a little. "Well, you guys have fun, a'ight?" she calls to them from the other room, picking up her backpack from beside the table, where she'd left it. "I think I oughta head out an' see 'bout gettin' some stuff done, an' all."
Alicia smiles and wets her lips a bit, still tasting her friend upon her mouth. "Mmm... Ok Bernie. Have a nice night, and pleasant dreams." Her voice is a soft, husky tease, attentions turning back to Tom as she laces her hands around his side. Her voice drops to a soft whisper as she leans up to kiss his ear.
In the front rooms, Tom puts his arms around Alicia as she comes up to him. He actually figures he's been marked now, by her look. She kisses her forehead lightly but then grins as she whispers and answers with a simple waggle of his eyebrows.
Bernie shakes her head again, still looking seriously bemused, and adjusts the bag on her shoulder as she heads out the back door.
The rear door of the house slides shut behind Bernie as she emerges through it, looking seriously bemused.
The tall Aussie theurge is striding back towards the Farmhouse with his hands deep in his jacket pockets when she exits, and gives her a nod as he approaches.
Bernie nods back, giving him a genuine if decidedly distracted smile. "Hey," she greets him softly, hands making there way back into her own jacket pockets, now that the door's shut.
Cameron halts a few feet away from the girl and looks her up and down. "Hey. What's up?"
Bernie shakes her head, developing a somewhat wry smile. "Weird shit. At some point, I walked outta my life an' inta a primetime drama. 's a'ight though. 'sup with you?"
Cameron nods at Bernie, then jerks a thumb at the barn. "Just had to work some shit out on the punching bag and start feelin' human again." He tilts his head a little and smiles. "So go on... what drama? Can't have something happening in my own house and not knowing about it."
Max exits the kitchen door muttering something to herself. ".. freakin' sixty-three-on-the-coffee-table's worse'n not usin' a coaster." She jumps off the top of the three steps down to land on the ground with a quiet thud and looks around. She approaches the other Garou, watching them from behind her dark hair as she stops a few feet from Bernie.
Bernie regards Cam a second, considering what level of detail to go into, and shakes her head, curls bouncing. "You don' even want me t' go inta all of it, trust me. But, f'r one thing, 'lish an' I hadda fight last night, which might I say's -your- fault, an' I'm gonna be forced t' kill ya now," she grins at him, teasing. "..we made up though, so 'sokay." She jumps as the door opens behind her, startled, and steps out of the way, grinning more as Max emerges. "Hey!"
Cameron waggles a finger at Bernie. "Don't you make me having to go talk to some spirits to find out what happened. How is a fight between you two my fault?" He looks up at Max and tilts his head a little - trying to remember a familiar face. "Uh, G'day."
Max shoves her hands into her pockets and sidesteps up close enough to Bernie to nudge her with a shoulder. But then -- at Cameron's greeting -- she's moving forward into the space that words crossed a moment before and interrupting amiably enough as she approaches Cameron. "/Dude/. That jacket's fine." She lifts a finger and touches at the sleeve with a positively covetous expression. She wanders around behind Cameron to stop on his other side. "S'Max if you fergot. Gnawer, 'basher, 'n Ratfood."
Slightly taken aback, Cameron stands still as Max moves about him, touching the jacket. "Uhm. Thank you. It was a present." He blinks, adding, "I like it too." to fill in the space. "Cameron Fullerton, or TaleSayer. Fianna Theurge. And still cub." He murmurs. The Aussie gives Bernie a look which says, 'This ain't over', then peers at Max.
Max folds her arms across her chest looking perceptively from Cameron to Bernie and back again. "You don't gotta get all muzzled jus' cuz I's here." The look she shoots Bernie is a silent 'Do you'?
Off in the woods, there is the sound of someone singing "Will ye go lassie go," extremely enthusiastically. Sort of a low alto. A little scratchy.
Bernie doesn't seem to think so, as she just goes ahead and explains to Cam, "You told her 'bout me gettin' a li'l drunk, an' wouldn' let her see me, an' so -she- went an' got th' impression I was, like, tot'ly plastered or somethin', an' was turnin' inta a li'l alky. So then she was like doin' intervention shit, an' she got all pissed when I was tryin' t' tell her I really don' drink all that much an' not t' worry. So like I said, all yer fault. 's a'ight now, though." A beat. "An' it -is- a nice coat."
Max settles her weight to one hip, arms still folded, and allows her expression to fade to a pleased half-smirk. The sound from the words draws her sharp gaze and Max turns her head to peer back toward the darkened woods. She whistles a little run of notes, then punctuates Bernie's statement with a muttered, "Word."
Cameron alternates between grimacing and grinning. "Oh Gawd..." he mutters, "I just didn't want her to /wake/ you. Bah." He nods at Bernie. "She did that to me, too. Intervention shit." He fingers the jacket. "Mmm. Well. I'm freezing my nads off out here and want food. I'm cooking... anyone want some?"
"I was jus' headin' back t' town, but hey, I could eat. Plus, I almost ate alla Matt's ramen already anyhow." Bernie grins, and shrugs a little. "An', hey, you wanna beer, I promise not t' tell 'lish 'f you won't," she teases, before glancing off curiously toward the source of the singing.
"... And we'll all go t'gether..." Emerging from the woods, Kaz stops dead at the little conglomeration of people, song ending abruptly. As she looks from Bernie to Cameron to Max, a grin slowly rises. "Well, hell, people, th' fuck you doin' standin' around in the cold?" Gravitating towards her packmate, she adds, "Someone say food?"
Cameron nods and heads for the door. As he's opening it, he looks at Bernie over his shoulder and gives her a disturbingly knowing look. "Provided you only have cans, and not the bottles." he murmurs, and heads inside.
Max grins as Kaz approaches behind her. "Yo. You go inside, you better take a hose," she calls after Cameron, but follows amiably enough after turning to look to Kaz.
Bernie looks quite happy to see Kaz, giving her a very slightly embarrassed but large smile, and follows the others back into the house. "How come that, Cam?" she asks, as they enter.
Kaz gives Bernie a brief, searching look, and then her grin rises further. "Right," she mutters, leaning into Max, "I think I had a pretty useful day, all in all. C'mon, food."
[Farmhouse: Kitchen and Dining Room]
In the front rooms, Alicia blinks and peers up over the brim of the couch, her hair slightly dishevled. "Tell you why? Oh.. I don't want to make you any more jealous, dear." She winks, blowing a kiss in Bernie's direction.
Cameron snorts, and rummages through the fridge looking for something to cook.
Bernie follows Cam in the back door, and blushes rather pink at the blown kiss. "Hey, 'lish," she greets the other girl, "thought you guys were, uh, gonna go upstairs?" She slides her backpack back off her shoulder, and sets it down beside the kitchen table.
In the front rooms, Alicia hops over the couch and heads into the kitchen, laughing. "And make a lot of noise for you all to hear and make fun of downstairs? I don't think so. That an Max kinda ruined the mood."
Cameron pulls out some sausages from the freezer, and leaves them on the stove to thaw. Grabbing some peas and corn and carrots from the fridge, and potatoes from a cupboard, he grabs a knife and starts peeling/slicing. "Hmmph. God. Look at me. Surrounded by women, and /I'm/ the one doing the cooking. You people are gonna turn me into a fucking patsy."
"Hey, I thought -Yi- was s'posta be Ruins-th'-Mood..." Bernie replies, and wanders over to the fridge, surveying the contents over Cam's shoulder as he rummages. She steps back quickly as he turns, and shuts the fridge as he leaves. "Hey, you offered," she points out, showing no current inclination to let him off.
Cameron manages to slip a can of Guiness out while she has the fridge open, and cracks it open in one swift motion with the knife he's using. A quick slurp, and he's back to peeling potatoes.
In the front rooms, Alicia frowns a bit for a moment, then pushes the thoughts away as she heads into the kitchen.
Bernie eyes the can a little, then glances over to Alicia, noticing her expression. Nah, probably not worth it right now. She leaves the fridge closed, and wanders over to the Fianna, relenting. "Y'wanna hand with anya that?"
Cameron continues peeling potatoes and carrots, and pours the frozen pease into a microwavable bowl. He moves about the kitchen doing bits and pieces, pulling a saucepan out and filling it with water, and putting the peeled potatoes in it. Pausing for a moment, he gestures to the sausages with the knife. "Open that up, and separate the snags, eh?"
Opening the screendoor carefully, Kaz ducks slightly to let the Max who's evidently enjoying a piggy-back ride through the door. "Yeah," she tells her, "You might notta, but he an' me had a talk last night. Or maybe the night before, it's hard to keep track. He's all f'r lotsa shit. An' I talked t'Nev t'day, too."
Alicia glances over idly to the door as she slips down at the table, crossing her legs. Leaning back some, she folds her arms over her chest.
Cameron throws an amused look over at Alicia. "Might wanna get yourself a drink. These ain't gonna be ready for half an hour, yet." He eyes the potatoes critically. "Might not even have enough vegies for everyone."
Max is apparently pleased at what Kaz says. "Rock," she answers as Kaz drops her summarily upon a counter. Max remains there when the galliard moves away. "I dinnit know if he would be." Then the ragabash casts a fascinated-wary look over at the cooking going on, swinging her feet from side to side, her palms on the counteredge on either side of her knees.
Alicia chuckles at Cam. "Its ok, ah' already ate earlier today. Ah'm fine." Reaching up, she reties her loose, shoulder length hair back into a pony tail.
"Yeah, a'ight," Bernie agrees, pulling her jacket off and hanging it over the back of the nearest chair. Wouldn't want the cuffs falling in the main course. She takes a place by Cam, leaning against the counter, and leans past him to wash her hands in the sink before starting to pull the links apart.
Kaz leans back against the counter next to Max. "It ain't like I need veggies anyway, Cam, so don' worry on my account." Glancing over at Max, her smile rises slightly. "Yeah," she explains, "I tol' him about what Ring of Fire wasn't, an' what I wanted us t'be like, as a pack, an' he was like--" Her voice, for those who've heard Tim, takes on his intonation for a few moments, "Hasta la fuckin' vista, I'm in." She sounds immeasurably pleased. "An' me an' Nev talked territory an' shit."
Max snorts quietly at Cameron's statement. "I ain't into no green shit, mate." The last comes out in attempted aussie-accent. She looks back to Kaz, her dark eyes dancing. "How the freak'd I miss all that smack? Hatchet got the lay down on territory?"
Cameron winces at Max's dietary habit and mock accent alike, but nods at Bernie, and continues his cooking (with his jacket still on. One concession not going to be made, there). Finally filling the saucepan with carrots and potatoes, he mutters, "We need more saucepans. Uh... watch this for me, eh?" He turns the stove up to the highest setting, and gestures at the saucepan. "When that starts boiling, turn it down to about half-heat, yeah? Cut up those sausages yet?" He moves over to the griller and switches it on anyway.
Smile turning almost embarrassed, Kaz explains, "Well, I did a lotta talkin' t'day. An' then I got harpooned on patrol an' missed out on Hanford, but anyways, my point is, yeah, we talked about maybe centering near th' Rialto. Elson an' Regan areas. Basically just north an' east've what Ring've Fire has, an' maybe takin' some've their shit over, if Jules joins up with us."
Bernie casts an eye over the saucepan, and nods. "Got it, Cam-Can-Cook. What size y'want these cut to, jus' links, or like bitesize, or what?" She snags a knife in preparation, and, when Alicia isn't looking, Cam's can of Guinness, taking a small sip and setting it back where he left it. She grins at Kaz, "Hey, no takin' over th' Dec'dence, though. But you c'n visit 'm sure."
Alicia isn't really paying attention to the conversations about her, or the happenings in the kitchen. She's absently staring out the window and upwards to the sky, eyes transfixed, lost among thoughts.
Max's brows jump measurably and she leans toward Kaz a little, lowering her voice. "The fuck? Who smacked her forehead 'n called her Laz'rus? She okay?" Max doesn't miss a beat, however, calling over to Bernie. "Where izzit?" There some mischief in those dark ragabash eyes.
Cameron mutters, "Just links. Can't mutliate a good snag. I'm gonna grill 'em, dammit." He settles back and takes a swig from the can, and stalks towards Bernie to check on whether the sausages are ready or not.
"Yo, Cam, c'n I help some?" Eyes alive, energetic, Kaz explains to Max, leaning reciprocally towards her, "She's been around, she just ain't been doin' /pack/ shit. Been mostly payin' attention t'makin' sure people ain't dyin' out on the streets. 'Course, I wouldna minded if she'd've, like, shared that with the rest of the fuckin' class, but whatever. I tol' her she was welcome, if she wanted t'bail on Elan. Tol' her I din' wanna pack without her. Other stuff like that. She said she'd think about it."
Bernie presents the neatly seperated sausages to Cameron. "...et voila. Sausagisity. Pour vous." She doesn't even attempt a french accent. To Max, she replies, "Elson; 's onna fi'th floora onea th' 'partment buildings there."
Max's gaze swings from Bernie to Kaz whom she regards thoughtfully. Going silent she nibbles on a lip and looks back to Bernie and nods.
Cameron nods at Bernie. "Uh-huh. Forget the french, no-one does snags and potato like us Aussies." So saying, the Fianna puts the sausages on the gril, one by one, then fishes about in a drawer for some tongs. He grabs a fork and punches a series of holes in each sausage, and lightly sprinkles most of his remaining beer over them, finishing the rest off himself. He slides the sausages under, and folds his arms, staring at the snags intently.
Kaz shrugs minutely at Max. "What?" she mutters.
The saucepan of carrots and potatoes starts to boil; Bernie reaches over and turns it down to half-heat, as instructed. That done, she bounces slightly impatiently on her toes, glancing over the cooking for something to do. She settles for collecting all the trash so far generated and moving it to the proper bin.
Alicia glances over to them at the odd silence, then quirks a brow upwards a bit.
Cameron stares at the sausages, turning them over every now and then to ensure a nice, even browning. He notes to Bernie, "Not much left to do. When these are about ready, I'll get you to pop the peas into the microwave, and maybe you can mash the potatoes. All you need's a dribble of milk, a tablespoon or so of butter and some salt. And a fork."
Max leans a little closer to Kaz and murmurs, "Y'think 'braska 'n the Man'll be into Miss Congeniality?"
Bernie flashes Cam a grin. "I know how t' make mashed potatoes," she chides gently, finding a suitable bowl and fork, "th' kitchen ain't -completely- alien t' me. Not even 'f y' don't count eatin' in it." She takes a moment to search the drawers for an actual masher. Much faster than a fork. "...sausages smell good," she comments.
Kaz rolls a shoulder. "Nev don' mind her, from what I saw a couple days ago. I ain't asked him directly, though. Tim, well, I'll talk t'him 'bout it next time I see him." Sounding slightly apologetic, she adds, "I wouldna asked her so direct-like, but it just seemed to make sense at the time, y'know?"
Cameron grins back at Bernie. "Needs more beer. Startin' to warm up." Another can is duly withdrawn from the fridge, and a little bit sprinkled over the sausages. The Fianna folds his arms again, one hand holding tongs, the other the beer - which he sips occasionally.
Alicia wrinkles her nose a bit and goes back to staring out the window, propping her chin up in the palm of her hands. For a Galliard's moon, this one is sure not very chatty amidst the group of Gnawers and sole Fianna.
Things being suitably set up, Bernie just leans against the counter again, getting comfortable and watching the sausages sizzle. Alicia's movement catches her attention, and she switches to watching her for a moment or two. "Y'a'ight, 'lish? Y'look less'n opt'mally enthused."
Max measures the look in Kaz's eyes for a few long moments then leans back to her usual slouch. She stops nibbling on her lip and begins biting at a blue-painted thumbnail. "You's the man, Zee." Max's gaze slides from Alicia to Bernie.
Apart from a momentary lapse in the facade where he frowns, concerned at Alicia, Cameron seems totally oblivious to what's going on around him.
Alicia mmm's slightly in thought, then peers back at her friend. "Yah, I am, just thinking 'bout Ben, thats all." She trails off a bit. "Moments like these, kinda remind me of Nevada an I, kicking it on the hood of the shark, making fun of big Texas with Kyle an Jaspah." She peers out the window once more, then softly says. "I remember when Nevada first called him Big Tex. It was right after Kyle gave me my tat of the state of Arizona on my back and it wasn't quite done healing yet. Ben found us after looking for me after a few days, and tried to throw down with Nev. Ben's a pretty big guy you know, football, wrestling, lifting weights." A slight giggle passes her lips as she reunites with her past for a moment. "Wooaaah there big tex, ah' can't fucking yo' sistah, honest injun." She says in a perfect, Nevada voice. "We jus' 'elping Arizona 'ere how ta' memorize were' all da' cap'talz ah. MMmph!" She pauses. "That was the sound of him getting his jaw cracked next."
Kaz sidles a little closer toward Max. "Yeah. Well. 's a group thang, gen'rally, too." She breaks off her contemplation of Max's masticatory habits at the Nevada imitation, and blinks, surprised.
Bernie giggles a bit at the end of the story. "Well... seein' as sounds like he's act'ly 'round an' teaching ya shit an' all, y'asked Dante t' take ya t' go see him or anythin'? Or t' letcha go with me or somethin'? 'cause, y'oughta be able t' least say hi... y'know?"
Max's attention strays back to Alicia and she stops nibbling as she listens to the impromptu tale, her lips pursing and her brows drawing together the slightest bit. "Uh /huh/."
Cameron smiles wryly, and just keeps turning those sausages. "Those potatoes ought to be about ready to get mashed, Bern. Wanna poke 'em with a fork and see if they're crumbly?" He looks up and blinks. "Oh, you might wanna pull the carrots out, first."
Fork in hand, Bernie whips off a quick mock-salute to the Fianna, and checks on the veggies. "Aw, y'mean you weren't lookin' for a mixed veggie melanges? ...yeah, they're done." She rummages in a cupboard a moment, and pulls out a metal strainer, setting it in the sink and then pouring the contents of the pot into it.
Alicia glances over to Bernie and shakes her head. "Nope, I haven't asked, not ganna push my luck anytime soon."
Kaz thumps her heel against the cupboard, and fetches a Coke from the fridge. "I'll grab leftovers later, yah? I gotta go get somethin' over'n the Barn."
Cameron waves at Kaz. "Rightio. That's what we've got a microwave for. Don't be too long."
Max hops off the counter and follows after Kaz. "Later Dude, Ette, Burn." She holds up two fingers and exits the kitchen. Her muffled voice can be heard as she asks Kaz a question as the packmates move down the back steps.
Bernie makes a face at Alicia's reply, hidden from the coggie as she seperates the carrots from the potatoes. "Mm," she replies noncommittally, and lifts a hand to wave to her tribemates. "Later...."
Cameron continues turning the sausages and sipping his beer, but glances over to Alicia. "You know. I read in some psychology book that it takes the average male nine minutes of silence from a woman to realize that he's in trouble. Just /how/ far up the shit am I?" He asks with a smile.
"Mmm... its not you, just thinking about the last kiss I had tonight. It was very, memorable." She leans back in the chair, training her eyes off to no where in general, then sighs softly in contentment.
Cameron raises an eyebrow at Bernie, trying to figure out what she's talking about.
From the front rooms, there's a knock at the door.
Bernie blinks once, pausing in her potato mashing, having already adding the other ingredients, and glances over her shoulder to Alicia. "How come Tom left, anyhow?" she asks, "I thought you guys were gonna," slight pause, "hang out a while."
Cameron scowls slightly. "Ah. Righto. Girl talk." He hands the tongs over to Bernie, and mutters, "I'll get the door." He stalks out into the living rooms, and hallway to do so.
Alicia clears her throat a bit, then glances over her shoulder to the knocking. "Ok.. thats weird, usually people just walk right on in.." She stands up, heading to the living room. "He left because it was getting late, an like I said, Max killed the mood."
Bernie turns the sausages. Good cub. "Oh... right, yeah. An' lotsa people knock, mostly th' ones who don' at least partly live here... y'know?"
In the front rooms, Alicia grins. "I'll be right back!" She calls to the kitchen. "I wanna take a peek, make sure Cam is ok an all. Don't know who'll be waiting on the other side with a shot gun."
Alicia giggles a bit. "Yaah... boonies, it can be a lil bit creepy out here at times." She smiles, ruffling up Cameron's hair playfully with her fingers. "My brother here is pretty good with spare things."
Cameron has to bend down a little to let her do it, but he 'Bah's playfully enough. "Well. Tyres at least, innat right, Arizona?"
The door cracks open, and Bernie leans partway out, glancing about at the tiny assemblage. "Think th' sausages are ready," she announces, "y'all gonna come back inside anytime in th' near future?" Quick smile to the stranger, "...an' hi."
Alicia smirks a bit. "Yah, it sure is, Conneticuit." She trails off teasingly, then looks to Bernie. "Hey, yah, in a bit. Cameron is fixing up this person's tire, her bike blew out on the road." She then whispers to Summer as she leans over, grinning.
Alicia leaning back with a laugh, she heads back inside with Bernie.
Cameron scowls at Alicia. "Gah. Wench. Keepin' secrets from your own brother?" The scowl disappears, turning into a cheeky grin quickly, and he nods to the stranger. "Didn't catch your name, sorry, miss."
Summer glances over her shoulder, to the door, distracted. She offers a quick smile and then laughs a little at Alicia's whisper. Then she glances over to Cameron. "I can get it," she says belatedly.
Bernie smirks at Cameron, "'s what brothers are for, keepin' secrets from. An' hope y' trust my judgement on th' links, 'cause I'm takin' 'em off." She grins at the stranger again, and waves, "Nice not quite meetin' ya!" before she ducks back inside.
[Farmhouse: Kitchen and Dining Room]
Alicia follows her back in, then bursts out laughing.
Bernie smirks, stepping over to the stove and taking the sausages off the grill, putting them on a plate. "She really b'lieve you're sibs, with him soundin' all Aussie an' all? No way."
Alicia shrugs her shoulders and laughs. "I dunno, but I told her that he's a major flirt, an if he should make a move on her, she needs to kick him in the nuts."
Bernie bursts out laughing herself. "Bitch," she remarks without rancor, grinning. "'f you don' wan' him, y'least shouldn't scare off th' ones he's gotta chance with. Geez." She's still giggling, though; obviously she finds it amusing.
Alicia nods her head and chuckles, shaking her head. "Hey..gotta at least warn the potential mates for lil Aussie Cam eh? You know...it shouldn't take this long to pump up a tire either."
Bernie sets the food aside, each in a dish for serving, and starts tidying up the dinner mess. "Yeah, is kinda takin' a li'l... but hey, whatever. They're prolly not tryin' t' get acrobatic on th' bike or anythin'."
Alicia smirks. "Maybe on the porch swing. Eww.. an we sit out there an sip our cocoa." She smiles and clears her throat. "Watch this.." She turns, heading for the living room. "He made ya flip those sausages, now I'm ganna flip his wig."
Alicia heads out onto the porch once again, having a killer grin on her lips. This, could be a bad thing.
Cameron is still leaning on the rail, trying to make conversation with the slightly reclusive girl.
Summer focuses on her work, as it gets more difficult. "Just a ride. Wanted to get a little further out of town to see the stars. It's gorgeous out here... you guys all live here?" She glances up to the door when it opens again.
Bernie follows Alicia out, and leans against the doorjamb, just the hint of a smirk on her own lips, hands buried deep in her jacket pockets as she watches the trio.
"Ooooh.... Caaaaameron... You know, you tell Bernie to flip your sausages so they won't burn, an there she is, doing it. She's your girlfriend, not yer slave." Alicia states firmly, crossing her arms. "You know, if you continue to act like this, I'm going to start spreading false rumors about you running around the house in just yer tidie whities once again. You know how the girls at school just 'love' those."
Cameron grimaces, but ignores the two until he's ready. Nodding, the Aussie looks at the stars himself. "Yep. It's not bad out here. Being away from the city /does/ give you a nice view of the stars. Pity about the bloody cold." He looks over his shoulder at the two other girls. "And the company. Well if it isn't tweedledum and tweedledee."
Summer smiles faintly, lowering her eyes as she finishes off with the pump. "Cold. Ha. /Canada's/ cold. This is just climate."
Steven approaches the farmhouse from the lane.
Bernie's demeanor adjusts, subtly, and she pushes an unruly curl behind her ear, giving Cameron a big-eyed, hurt look. The curl allows itself to be moved, but goes right back where it started as soon as it thinks she's not paying attention. "Honestly, Cameron Fullerton, sometimes I don't know why I even bother. I mean, I'm slaving over a hot stove in there for you, and you just run off and get mesmerized by every passing bicyclist, I mean, really! I mean," she gets all sniffly and emotional, "I gave you the best years of my life, Cameron! You utter cad!" She looks at him a few moments, lower lip quivering, eyes all big and sad. Awwwwwwwwww.
Cameron stops leaning against the railing and turns, folding his arms, looking at Bernie and Alicia. "Nice of you to volunteer to be my girlfriend, there, Berns." He smiles wryly at Alicia. "You know, you /can/ start eating without me, girls. Give you something better to do than standing out here making up malicious rumours." Looking at Summer over his shoulder he mutters, "You'll have to excuse them. Well. You about done there, Summer?"
Alicia blinks and glances over to Bernie, then back to Cameron, nodding her head sharply. "You know Bernie, maybe you should move on." She pats her on the shoulder, trying to comfort the new moon. "There are plenty of more fish in the sea."
Summer tries to stifle a laugh. To judge by the nervousness in her posture, it's a genuine effort. "Um, yeah, I'm... about done. Yeah." She glances over to Bernie, her eyes bright with amusement.
"But... but..." Bernie protests, still sounding highly emotional, "...I don't -LIKE- fish...." That's it; she can't keep it up any longer past that. A wide grins breaks across her face, and she shrugs at Cam. "Yeah, well, anytime, Cameroon, I live t' serve." She favours him with another mock salute.
Alicia bursts out laughing at Cameron's remark, leaning against Bernie playfully. "Damn Bern, that was pretty good, I was almost believing it for a moment."
Steven eyes the bicyclist, and then the motley crew on the farmhouse porch. He passes by Summer, does a double take and then looks right back at her.
Cameron snorts, but a grin creeps across his face, too. "Bah. Scamp." The boy steps off the porch, and wanders back over to Summer to retrieve the pump, sending Steven a curious look as he does so.
Summer straightens from the bike pump, and glances between them, a little warily. "Um... do you guys have a--" Then she spots Steven, and looks away quickly as she hands the pump off to Cameron. "Thanks," she says again.
Bernie gives a brief but flamboyant little bow, mostly for Alicia's benefit, spotting Steven as she straightens again. "...Evening," she greets him, with a slight wave, and reopens the front door. "We were just about to have dinner. Care to join us? I'm sure Cam won't mind if you eat his share..."
Alicia glances over to Steven and quits laughing, clearing her throat quickly. "Hi Steven..." She mummers to him, wiggling fingers in a gesture of a wave. "Or mine, I'm actually not eating tonight..but there's plenty."
Cameron looks back and forth from Steven to Summer. Settling his gaze on Summer, he makes a gesture for her to elaborate. "... a.. phone? No sorry. Something else?" His eyes keep straying over to Steven queryingly.
"No," Steven answers Summer, "we don't have a phone here." He eyes her a bit suspiciously, and then his attention strays toward Bernie and Alicia. Rather than answer them verbally, he puts on a stern expression and squares himself toward Summer. "How do you do, miss?" he asks.
Alicia pages: (Mind Speak) There's a moment of odd feelings, then a voice echos into your head <Greeeaaat.. Steven is ganna try an step in an ruin Cameron's game, thats wrong>
"Castles don't -have- phones!" Bernie mutters, with a quick grin, and leans against the jamb of the partially open door again, watching.
Long distance to Alicia: Bernie thinks .oO( Yeah. It's one thing if -we- give him a hard time... )
Summer chews on her lower lip, and the tension in her posture racks tighter as she looks up into Steven's eyes. "Fine, now," she says quietly. "Um, is this your place?"
Alicia pages: .oO(For reals Bernie.. its not like Cam can really, ya'know..jump on in. 'sides, she's definitly a cutie, she looks like Cam's type..I guess...)Oo.
Long distance to Alicia: Bernie thinks, .oO( What... you mean like you? (there's the sense of a smile) ...yeah. She looked more comfortable talking to Cam than Steven anyway. Of course... who doesn't? )
Steven shakes his head slowly. "No, it isn't," he answers. "I'm sorry. Are you a guest of someone here?" He smiles at her insincerely.
Alicia pages: thinks. oO(Oooh that was so low! -laughs- No.. not like me..gah..do you think I'm his type? Or just what every guy's stupid slut fantasy? Pfft.. I"m no one's type.. I'm just a body, you are more what people fall in love with, you have a brain)Oo.
Cameron interrupts, waving the bike pump. "Just passing through, and got a flat. She was just about to head off." He smiles at Summer, and he nods at Alicia and Bernie. Giving them a look which seems to say, 'maybe you should be inside.'
Summer shakes her head quickly. "I, um. Had a flat up by I-90. I was hoping to find someplace with a phone but..." She tests some weight on the back tire of the bicycle. "This'll get me to town anyway."
Long distance to Alicia: Bernie thinks .oO( Hush, you. You have one too. And I don't think it was -just- your body he liked, or the knee to the nuts would've ended the friendship, too. And theorize all you like, but no one's in love with me. Shall we take Cam's hint and head in? )
From afar, Alicia thinks .oO( I love you, and I dunno, should we? You know, I can drag him into this lil party call also. Hmmm.. nah, bad idea, he'll freak out. I dunno, lets go inside.. not our bizz' if the Fianna wanna see who has a bigger dick to nail the blonde.)Oo.
Bernie nods very slightly, though oddly enough it seems to be aimed more at Alicia than Cam, and opens the door the rest of the way, slipping inside with a quick wave to the visitor.
Alicia follows after the Gnawer, smiling brightly to herself.
Alicia speaks up and says. "Hey Bernie, I'm going to head back home for a bit, grab some sleep. I'll catch ya tomorrow night, k?"
Bernie heads back to the kitchen, and pulls a stack of plates down from the cupboard.
Bernie nods, glancing back over her shoulder. "Aww. Abandon me t' th' Fianna? Yeah, a'ight. Sleep well, I'll see ya t'marra or th' day after."
Alicia smiles and confirms. "Tomorrow." She winks, then slips out the back door.
Bernie is setting out plates on the table -- only three, and Alicia is nowhere in evidence. Silverware is already there, in a pile, and there's a dish of grilled sausages, a plate of boiled carrots, and bowl of mashed potatoes, all getting cold while everyone gabs outside.
Steven lifts his chin toward the Gnawer. "You cook all this?" he asks, heading for the fridge.
"Yes and no," Bernie replies. "At this point I'd say it's fair to call it a joint effort between myself and Cameron." She pauses a moment, and grins, "..so if you hate it, blame him, and if you like it, I'll take the credit."
Steven snorts out a half-chuckle. "Cute," he says. He digs around for a properly chilled beer and then shuffles in a drawer loudly for a bottle opener. He collects one of the forks that's been set out and pokes it through one of the sausages. "I heard Ethan tried to feed some of the lupus hot dogs once. Wonder how that went down..."
Bernie slides one of the plates forward. "First inclination's 'quickly,' but then, maybe they wouldn't like the preservatives... or the relish. Potatoes or carrots?" she offers, waving a serving spoon in the general direction of the food.
Steven rolls his shoulders. "Some of both?" He shrugs again, taking a big bite of the sausage, washing it down with the tasty cold lager. "Hope Cam gets it into his head to lust after a nice girl like that one," he mutters, glancing toward the front of the house.
Bernie grins a little, and plops fairly generous servings of each on the plate, adding another sausage and pushing it down the table to Steven. "She seems nice enough," she remarks, and starts serving up another plateful of food. "Cool boots."
Steven glances up. "Huh?" he asks, seemingly oblivious. "Were they?"
Bernie shrugs a little. "I like Docs," she says, "and green. So yes, if you ask me. Which," she smiles, setting the laden plate in front of another chair and starting toward the fridge, "I guess you just did, act'ly."
Steven just watches the young Gnawer walk away. He looks more than a little confused. "If you say so," he mutters, turning toward the plate, digging in with relish. "Not bad," he offers her after a couple shovelfuls down the gullet.
Bernie opens the fridge, and takes a bottle of Guinness from the very small flock of them sitting inside. Bumping the door shut again, she heads over to her plate, and sits, blissfully unaware of any confusion. "Cool, thanks," she remarks with a smile, "Glad you like it." She glances at the bottle top, mouth quirking into a little half-smirk for a moment, and the cap pops off, landing on the table with a tiny clatter before she takes a sip.
Steven looks mortified as Bernie opens the Guinness.
Bernie sets it aside and cuts a bite from her sausage, pausing as she catches Steven's expression. She tilts her head at him, "...what?"
Steven points at the open bottle. His mouth hangs open. He looks stunned, or shocked. Possibly catonic.
Bernie looks from Steven to the bottle, and back. Her brow furrows. "...mm..'kay. I have the distinct feeling I'm missin' somethin' here. What's wrong?" The slice of sausage lingers on the tines of her fork as she asks.
Steven's hand lowers, setting his fork on the plate. Then he shakes his head. Vigorously. Hands run through his hair and he blinks a couple times. Then he resumes eating, as if nothing happened.
Bernie eyes Steven warily for a few moments, the sausage still patiently waiting, as she tries further to figure it out. Damn. This is going to bother her all night now. She pops the sausage into her mouth, and chews it, then takes another sip of the Guinness. Steven gets a quick, sidelong glance, as she looks to see if he's going to behave oddly again.
Steven finishes his meal, normally, in silence. Then he stands, clears his plate, washes it with a scrubber and puts it to one side to dry. He gets another beer, then and opens it. "See you kid. Thanks for the grub."
Bernie has relaxed again, somewhat, at the lack of further freaking out on the Fianna's part, but isn't done yet, eating more slowly. She flashes him a smile, "...hey, any time. See you."