At first glance, this run-down efficiency seems largely un-lived in. The door opens onto an empty living room, devoid of furniture and painted institutional white. It is reasonably spacious, and is obviously intended to be the main room of the flat. The current light fixture is a hanging industrial flourescent, which gives the room a slightly unhealthy, antiseptic feeling, unmitigated by the ancient blinds covering the windows.
To the right upon entering is a small kitchenette, with barely enough space to stand between the stove and refridgerator on one side and the sink on the other. Just above the sink is what little cabinet space can be had. Just past the kitchenette, still on the right, is the bathroom. Tiled floors, actinic flourescent light and whitewashed walls make this space reminiscent of a hospital surgery.
Opening from the living room, next to the bathroom door, is the main bedroom. It does not, however contain a bed. A pile of blankets, pillows and a sleeping bag, occupying the approximate center of the room, serve the purpose. A miltary style duffel, spilling clothes, sits inside the empty closet, next to a pile which is probably laundry. The window blinds here are closed, cracked and dusty.
The other room off the living room is also intended to be a bedroom, but remains unused. It is a little smaller than the main bedroom, and has less closet space, but is otherwise the same. Soft incandescents struggle to light the room through the dust on the fixtures, and little natural light gets through the blinds, enhancing the room's tiny, cave-like atmosphere.
Finally, between the bedrooms, is a small coat closet, empty except for a surely breeding collection of wire hangers. The door to the closet is perpetually ajar, as it doesn't seem to want to latch properly.
It could be a Denny's in Los Angeles, California. It could be a Denny's in Newark, New Jersey. It could be a Denny's in Friend, Nebraska. As it happens, it's a Denny's in St. Claire, Washington, but the surroundings don't really matter. It's a Denny's.
The double doors of the glass foyer lead to a matching set of doors to the restaurant proper, and on entering one sees to one side a pair of gumball machines and a grab-the-toys-with-the-claw machine, to the other, a payphone, and ahead, the register and the ubiquitous freestanding sign: Please wait to be seated. No matter the time of day or night, no matter how many or few patrons seem to be seated, the waitstaff always appear to be bustling about, and it takes a minute or two before one is free to seat any new arrivals.
Large panes of glass make up the majority of the outer walls, giving a good view of the street from any of the many red vinyl upholstered booths that line the walls below them. Most of the booths are two facing benches and a table, able to hold four people comfortably or 6 really cozily, but each corner holds a bigger one, fit for as many as ten rowdy late night teenage patrons. The open area of the restaurant is littered with tables and chairs, all seemingly for parties of four. On every table in the restaurant are the usual condiments, menus, and a carafe with a slip advertising the orange juice, all in a neat little wire corral.
The waitstaff are all neat, and range from perky and helpful to sullen and incompetent; there's also that one requisite smart ass waiter who jokes with all the patrons and is the favourite of all the high school students. The clientele range from crying babies to elderly folks with walkers, trendy teenage girls and loud, dangerous looking hoodlums, and any of the types might be seen at any hour.
Plastic plants hang from the ceiling beams and sit on the counters. Very low pile carpet in semi-geometric designs lies unnoticed across the floor. Cups of eternally refilled coffee sit on almost every occupied table. The food is cheap, plentiful, and overall, edible. It's not the Ritz. It doesn't have to be. It's a Denny's.
Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a flower bed, a few benches, and a plywood wall barricade. The area where the fountain was, and presumably the new fountain will be, is currently enclosed by high plywood walls. There is a door in one of the walls, firmly locked with a stout-looking padlock. The walls enclose much of the flagstone area, now, only leaving a little around the edges of the old courtyard. Scraggly hedges line one side of the courtyard, just behind some mostly graffiti-free benches and a chain link fence. Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront. The park is almost constantly devoid of people as its reputation for being one of the most violent and dangerous places in the city spreads.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire. A meadow surrounds the small glade.
The Umbral ground beneath your feet here is lush with vegetation, an oasis of life amidst the concrete and webbing of the scab. Trees stand proud and tall here, their branches full of leaves. Shrubs line the outer edges of the park, tangled with encroaching webs. There's no plywood cage around the fountain here, its shining white marble reflecting the silvery glow of Luna's light. Still operational here, a soft flow of water bubbles from the fountain, gathering into a serene pool. The river banks the east shore of the park, bridged by a massive rusty bridge. On this shore, the glade seems to have spread out on to it, vines winding around the supports. Further across the river, the bridge melds into the scab again, flaked with rust and covered in webs. The river itself is clean within a few feet of the shore, but black ooze seems to encroach menacingly from the murk of the rest of the river.
A walkway leads out of the Glade-like atmosphere of the park from just north of the fountain. Eastward, the dark span of the bridge stretches over the vile river. Dark streets lead west and southwest into the blighted Umbra of the city.
Keys jangle in the locks, one at a time. The sharp eared might hear the set of keys drop, followed by low cursing in Welsh.
Bernie is curled in a corner of the couch, bootless, studying her notebook with furrowed brow and pen in hand. The table is still covered in Hershey's Kisses -- three weeks, and none are missing. The flowers must have been replaced, since they're not dead and brown. The sound of someone at the door, however, grabs her attention immediately. Too quickly for conscious thought, she's standing, and drops the notebook onto the cushions before wandering more slowly toward the door.
Matt gets the last lock and finally pushes his way into the flat, not quite registering the entire room right away, more concerned with getting out of the damned landing and being /home/. Just inside the door he lets his duffel slide off his shoulder, and leans back against the door to close it.
Bernie comes to a stop as the door opens, still several feet away from it, and watches. She feels a sudden compulsion to lean against a wall, but as there isn't one handy, just ends up pushing her hands down into her jeans pockets, her jacket, like her backpack, being over by the sofa. She watches the Fianna's entrance silently for a few moments, speechless. About the time he gets the door shut again, her mouth, at least, recovers: "...I ate all the ramen."
Matt drops to his knees in anguish and horror. "Noo!" He wails. Then he stops, grins and stands, opening his arms for a hug. "Miss me?"
It's a full moon, so the anger that arises now that he's back (and apparently safe) actually gets about half a second's dominance before the relief and just plain happiness to see him take over, a wide grin spreading across her face, and she's over there in a flash, hugging tightly enough to completely contradict the implication of her reply, "...oh, were you gone?"
Matt returns the hug fiercely. "Fully official, Oi am. Citizen of the United States of America." He pulls back far enough to look her in the eye. "Sorry to take off on short, Books. 'adda sign papers and stay wif me blister."
"Yeah?" Bernie replies, looking back at him, "...fully 'ficial an' not subject t' deportation or anythin', an' able t' vote this next 'lection an' everythin'? ....'bout time! I was 'bout ready t' go find ya myself. Startin' t' think y'got abducted by aliens..." She trails off and steps back closer into the hug again, just this side of painfully tight, resting her head briefly on his shoulder. "....yeah. Missed you." A beat. "But, y'know. Just a li'l bit."
Matt smiles. "Able ta vote, and everfing. Oi just can't be President. Fanks fer the Kisses, by the way. An 'appy Valentine's Day." He lowers his head sheepishly. "Oi didn't mean ta worry you, but...Oi don't 'ave a phone 'ere..."
"An' you thought it'd only be handy for ord'rin' pizza," Bernie replies, and then pulls back enough to look at him again. "Bein' President's prolly overrated anyhow... an' you're always welcome for th' kisses." She ducks her head slightly as she says that, with a small smile and the hint of a blush. Lifting her head again, she cocks it at him, and returns his earlier question a bit shyly. "Miss me? Or were ya too busy navigatin' th' governmental bureaucracy?"
"Every day, Books," He admits. "Every day. Getting back to you an' St. Claire was driving me Oriental near the end there." His grin widens. "You 'ave any idea 'ow boring a bloke is when he's boaf yer brovver-in-law /and/ an orfodontist? Unbelievable."
Bernie blushes a bit more, unsurprisingly, but looks rather pleased. "Me too," she confesses quietly, before adding more normally, "...oh, an' I figured out chicken oriental, since y'never got 'round t' 'splainin' that one. 'm I good or what?" She grins, and finally lets go of him, taking hold of his hand instead and pulling him toward the couch. "So didja get stuck jus' hearin' all 'bout th' mechanics of a proper bite an' other such fascinatin' topics of gen'ral int'rest?"
Matt shrugs and smiles. "We've never gotten along. 'E's the reason Oi wasn't in Portland in the first place, or Oi might never 'ave made it 'ere. 'E kicked me out of the mickey after two weeks, the first time. At least this time 'e let me stay until the INS was satisfied." He slumps exhausted onto the couch. "Give me five minutes alone wif 'im, though, an' Oi could show 'im a roight quick way ta rearrange 'is dental."
Bernie grins, "Bet you'd charge less'n he does, too. I dunno whether I oughta hate 'im on your behalf, or thank 'im..." She gets comfortable, and then immediately sits up a bit again, "...y'wanna drink or anythin'?"
Matt stretches, and scrates the back of his head. "Well, Oi was finkin'...since we 'ave no ramen, of goin' out for some jim. Oi /do/ owe you a Valentine's Day dinner." He gestures toward the coffee table, "...we already 'ave dessert..."
Bernie smiles. "Shiny, individually wrapped d'ssert, even. An' ooh, dinner, huh? Sounds good t' me. Shall I change?" she asks, grinning, and then goes slightly uncertain. "...I couldn' ask, 'cause you were 'way an' all, but I'm 'round here so much, I got sicka -havin'- t' go back t' th' Farmhouse all th' time... so I brought my stuff over here. That a'ight? I mean, not meanin' t', like, full-on move in on ya, but it jus' seemed kinda silly t' run back an' forth -ev'ry- day, 'specially when you weren't even 'round..."
Matt smiles. "Sure, Books. Yer fine ta move yer stuff in. Not loike /Oi/ 'ave all that much. An'--" He looks up to meet her eyes "--Oi really like 'avin' you 'ere. So. My 'ome, your 'ome. Fer as long as ye wanta."
Bernie smiles back again, relaxing. "...caught m'self callin' it home th' other day... an' thanks. 'cause," she looks back at him, "...I really like bein' here. 'spec'ly when you're not out gallivantin' 'round th' coast," she finishes, teasing.
Matt stands, headed for the kitchen. "Would ye like ta see it?"
"'Course!" the Gnawer replies, drawing her knees up beside her on the couch as she watches Matt move across the room. Gotta keep watching, or you never know, he might disappear again...
Matt fumbles his wallet out of his jeans pocket, and pulls out an i.d. sized card. Sure enough, it's green. No picture, lots of governmentese. "Driver's license too. Oi look like an idiot." He really does. Surprised, and dazed, to boot.
Bernie takes the cards, and examines them closely, giggling at the picture. "Y'look like they just toldja you'd been in cryogenic s'spension for several years... y'd think they'd be -good- at it, takin' so many pictures alla time. But -I- got better picturesa you than -that-..." She stops running off at the mouth, and looks up at him sheepishly. "I mean, though it could be hella worse, f'r sure..." She studies all the other infomation on it briefly -- height, weight, middle name, all that interesting stuff, and remarks, "...I really gotta learn t' drive." She switches the cards, looking the green one over now. "So didja call th' rest'rant while you were 'way? I mean, they were okay witcha bein' gone so long an' all?"
Matt blushes. "Oi wasn't ready. She said she was goin' ta take the picture, roight? So Oi get set, and she's already done it, loike. Totally off me guard. Oi look like a git. No, the pitch was all right wif it. He just wanetd ta make sure no one was goin' ta sue 'im fer workin' me the last six monfs. I'm goin' ta call 'im on Monday and get back on the schedule."
Bernie giggles again, and offers the cards back. "Guess th' DMV drones gotta do -somethin'- t' make it fun... an' he seemed a'ight with it back when I stopped by, but that was like weeks ago, so, y'know, wondered. Tha's cool though, def'nitely." She pauses, and adds, sincerely, "...an' even off guard an' all, y'look cute in it."
Matt blushes again. "Y'know, you keep this compliments thing up, and Oi'll become...well, Collin, probably."
Bernie gains a hint of pink in her cheeks as well, but shrugs a little, and smiles. "Call 'em like I see 'em?" she replies, "...an', y'know, Collin's not so bad. Though I'd rather have a you 'round than twoa him, so you start feelin' any unt'ward swellin' of th' ego, let me know an' I'm sure I gotta safety pin somewhere..."
"Ak!" Matt eeps. "Not the dreaded pin!" he pauses with a glint in his eye. "And why, exactly, 'aven't you used it on Collin yet?"
Bernie grins, and pushes her curls back behind her shoulders. "'cause he's jus' too damn much fun t' listen to, 'specially seein' as I only run inta him like oncea month." She considers, and adds, "...plus, I'm thinkin' there's prolly a rule 'gainst cubs poppin' cliath's bubbles."
Matt folds his arms across his chest. "So Rite, already." He gives himself a once over to see if he is ready for the public, and slips his wallet back into his pants.
"Doin' my best," the other cub replies, and unfolds herself, getting to her feet and wandering vaguely Matt-ward. "'s prolly gonna be soon, from what Kaz an' all are sayin'. Like, could be next week even, y'know?" She bites her bottom lip lightly a second. "Dunno 'f I'm ready yet. For that or dinner, come t' thinka it. Where d'ya wanna go?"
Matt shrugs. "I don't know any of the really nice places, even if they'd let me in. Oi don't fink my jacket counts, even if I owned a tie.... You pick. My treat."
Bernie giggles a little, regarding him. "Oh, I'm sure we could come up with some kinda tie, but I dunno they'd approvea th' overall result..." She drops back onto the couch, and starts putting her boots on. "...I don' have anywhere in partic'lar jumpin' t' mind... maybe we c'd just sorta wander 'til we found somewhere that looked 'bout right?" Something occurs to her, and she smiles, slowly. "...an' I got somethin' nifty t' show ya, too. After dinner, I think."
Matt makes an apprasing face. "Sounds good. Oi've got a full tank o' petrol and no where ta be til Monday."
Bernie finishes lacing, and grabs her jacket, pulling the engulfing garment on. It's even bigger on her now than it used to be, though at least the cuffs don't fall any further down her hands. She snags her backpack next, hefting it up and onto her shoulder, despite the low likelihood of needing anything within it. Standing, she walks back over to the other cub and gives him a quick, impulsive, wordless hug, then releases him again. "Ready."
Matt steps into the hug, and gives Bernie an impulsive kiss on the lips. After a second, he breaks off, adding. "Did I mention that Oi /really/ missed you?"
There's a split-second's startlement before Bernie kisses back, however briefly, and glances down a little, smiling. "Yeah," she replies, "but y'feel like mentionin' it 'gain, hey, don' let me stop ya..." Glancing back up to him, she adds, "...'s nice t' know 's not just me."
Matt almost whispers it. "Oh, it's you. It's definitely you." He blinks, then smiles a gain, widely. "Hungry?"
"Famished," she replies, smiling back at him despite the sudden blush that once again rises in her cheeks. She steps a bit away, and reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers.
So, less than half an hour after arriving home, Matt unlocks the flat to go out again. In far better company, and to good purpose. Maybe later, he can sleep for a day and a half, like he keeps promising himself.
[Denny's]
Matt glances around the foyer appreciatively, reflexively checking the gumball machines for abandoned gumballs. He takes a patient stance next to the 'Please Wait' sign, looking to Bernie for a cue.
The sign doesn't seem to consciously register in Bernie's vision, although she does stop between it and Matt for a moment. She uses the pause to assess the movement patterns of the waitstaff, then pulls two menus from the little holder on the back of the sign and starts toward the huge, empty booth in the back corner, reaching back to grab Matt's hand again and pull him along.
Matt allows himself to be led, looking around at everything. He's not totally unused to restaurants, but is apparently new to this one. More than anything, he seems happy: happy to be back in a usual pattern, back in St. Claire, back with friends.
Bernie sets the menus on the table and slides into the booth, into the very corner of the curve of the seat, and flashes a happy smile at her companion. "Y'know, this's th' first time in, like, weeks, I've been in here an' it hasn't been like 4am..."
Matt slides in next to her, one arm snaking around her waist, and pulls a menu towards himself. "So, whot kind of jim 've they got 'ere then? Steaks?" An honest question. He actually seems not to know.
Bernie leans in against Matt, looking positively blissful for a few moments there. The question startles her, though. "...yyyeaaahhhh.... but I wouldn' rec'mend 'em 'f you're choosy 'bout such things... Haven't y'ever been t' a Denny's b'fore?" The prospect seems difficult for her to believe. "Here..." She opens one of the menus on the tabletop in front of them, setting the other aside, and gestures at the pictures, "...th' food never looks like -that-, 'course. But anyway it shows ya what there is, an' all."
Matt closes the menu briefly to look at the caption: 'Denny's /All-American/ Cafe' and glances at Bernie with an eyebrow raised. "Never 'ave. Really." He flips through again. "Hmm. breakfasts, sandwiches. Cor, this is makin' me 'ungry. Oi 'aven't eaten yet, just came straight 'ome."
Bernie eyes the "All-American" bit. "Well, they got McDonalds an' all all th' way in like Russia an' China, so..." She shrugs, grinning a little. "A'ight. Th' sammiches an' breakfasts are good, yeah; so're th' burgers. An' th' shakes. An' th' pie's not bad. An' th' coffee's... caffinated." One of her hands slips over to rest very lightly on his leg, "...hey, y'wanna get mozz'rella sticks for starters? They're us'ly good."
Matt smiles. "as in cheese? Sure. And a coke." His hand slides down to rest lightly on hers, and gives it a squeeze. "Tell you whot. Oi'll trust yer judgement tonight--you pick--and next time we're in London, Oi pick for you. Deal?
"As in cheese," Bernie confirms, and then nods. "Deal. Butcha gotta throw in th' gran' tour an' allat, too. A'ight?" She gives him a small nudge with her shoulder, and peruses the menu. "...So, lessee, you're really hungry... y'know, 'cept for when I was hitchhikin' up here, I've never been outside southern california? Sad, huh? ...think I'll go with th' mushroom swiss burger, m'self... hey, so when y'came here, didja fly, or take a boat, or what?"
Matt shrugs. "Deal. Tour included. Oi'll take ye to Whitechapel." His smile is a bit lopsided. "Mushroom swiss burger, hmm? Sounds good." He closes his menu, however, allowing Bernie to have her way with his stomach. "Oh, I flew," he replies to her question. "Ticket came out o' me inheritance, but I'm signin' most o' that o'er to Evelyn anyway."
"'zat like?" Bernie asks. "Flyin', I mean. 's it fun, or scary, or what?" She gives the menu another look, and flips it closed, stacking the pair of them at the edge of the table. A waitress quickly picks up on the queue and starts an approach.
"Pretty boring, actually," Matt shrugs. "Nine hour flight from Heafrow to Sea-Tac, most of it over water. Oi slept. It's a lot like riding a bus, except--" He looks up at the waiter, then nods in Bernie's direction.
According to the nametag, the waitress is "Kathy," and she looks as though she's trying not to let anyone see just what a crappy mood she's really in. She greets them in an overly chipper voice, with a bright smile that doens't quite reach her eyes, "'Evening. What can I get you to drink tonight?" Bernie reaches out, but manages to resist the urge to reopen the menu as if it were a cheat sheet to get the answer right. "Two cokes, please, an' also a vanilla shake, an' you wanna shake too, Matt? Choc'late, 'nilla, or strawb'ry... oh, an' we're ready t' order, if y'don't mind."
Matt ponders. "you pick. No, strawberry."
"Strawb'ry," Bernie repeats, with a slight nod, looking back form Matt to Kathy, who nods back. "All right," the waitress replies, "and what else would you like?" "Mozz'rella sticks for starters, an' we'd each like a mushroom swiss burger... an' I think that oughta do it for now. Thanks," Bernie replies, pushing the menus a tad further away. Kathy picks them up, "Sounds good! I'll get you those cokes right away." With that, she turns, and tries not to stalk too much as she heads away. "...'cept what?" Bernie asks, turning her attention back to the other cub and picking up where they left off.
Matt shrugs. "Well, yer ears pop, to start, 'cause they pressurize the cabin, and there are movies." He mimes putting on a headset. "They 'ave earphones, ye plug inta yer seat, so you can hear the movie wifout arsein' off the bloke next to ye."
"Cool," Bernie remarks, "woulda been nice t' have that with th' couch back home, sometimes..." The cokes make an appearance, and she quickly bestraws hers and takes a sip, shifting a little in the seat to relax comfortably. "...you're not gonna hafta dis'pear an' do anymorea these things, right? All handled an' happy now?"
Matt looks slightly unhappy. "Well...there's one more thing I have to go off and do. And I don't know when. Soon, I think."
Bernie smiles slightly, and regards Matt. "...well. 'side from that, 'f y' mean what I think. Can't be 'voided. ....An' anyway... there's still th' chance I might get t' go too, an' then it wouldn't count at all, yeah?" She gives his leg a gentle squeeze. "...it'll be all good."
Matt nods, a flash of worry once again crossing his face. "Would be nice, wouldn't it? An' yes, that's whot I was talkin' about." He takes a sip of Coke to distract himself, then leans back in the booth, and asks, "Whot about you then? You're going soon? An' 'ow about our little hush-hush project, hmm? Fill me in, Oi've been trapped wif an orfodontist."
Bernie grins, "You'd think'n orthadontist'd be pretty good on th's fillin' in front..." She reaches across both of them with her free arm, and gives him a quick squeeze about the waist. "Yeah, soon, 's what they been sayin'. An' we'll kickass, botha us. F'r sure," she insists, reassuringly. "...even 'f we don't get t' go t'gether. Nice 's it'd be. ...I have spoken." She sips her coke, and glances toward the interior of the restaurant, checking of signs of imminent food arrival. There are none. "As for th' Project..." She pauses, considering. "...I wanna talk t' ya 'bout it there, 'kay? After we eat. But for one thing, I got one more recruit, Kaz. Hey, y'know she's challengin'?"
"Truth?" Matt asks. "Good fer her. Make her what, two up from us?" He glances around, to be sure he's not being overheard, even if he's being obscure enough to protect the veil.
Bernie nods. "Mmhmmm. Oughta be cool. I wanna see whan it happens, whatever Elan comes up with, y'know?" She breaks off as the cheese sticks and shakes arrive, and stays even vaguer while Kathy's even possibly in hearing range, "...god, there's like -so- much goin' all, all this stuff that happened while you were gone! 's gonna take me like all night t' getcha up t' speed."
Matt laughs. "Oi wish Oi could say the same. I can sum up the entire monf in a tic: Forms, offices, forms, interviews, more forms. Did Alicia ever get un-grounded?"
Bernie shakes her head, scooping a spoonful of whipped cream from her milkshake, then pauses. "Well.... -kinda-. Her range got expanded a li'l, anyway. Now she's got th' house an' environs, an' th'-" She breaks off, catching herself just in time, and pops the cream into her mouth to cover while she thinks. Then, "...meetin' place in th' park, an' th' nearby campin' area, which is where she's s'posta spend her nights, now. She's still not 'llowed 't come out an' hang with us, so we still gotta go see her. Oh, an' I met anothera your classmates. Cam'ron. He came back from visitin' someone, an' he's grounded too, only jus' t' th' house, I think." She moves a little, and slips her jacket off, setting it beside her on the seat, then getting comfy again. There's a candy necklace twisted a few times around her wrist like a bracelet.
Matt rolls his eyes. "Oi, Cameron," he growls. "Back, is 'e? 'as 'e hit on you?" Matt's eyebrows frown together, and he sucks a little shake slowly through the straw.
Bernie gives Matt a sidelong glance, developing a mischevious little smile. "What'd y' do 'f I said yes?" she asks, a bit teasingly, and takes a sip of her coke.
Matt shrugs. "Kick 'is teef in. Wanker 'as a tendency ta get all bent about a twist, particularly if she's pretty." He tucks an errant curl of Bernie's hair behind her ear, for as long as /that/ lasts. "Steven nearly fed 'im 'is small intestine, last time."
Bernie giggles, and sets her glass back down. "Nah," she replies, looking back to Matt, "he hasn't. Act'ly he's been all nice'n gentlemanly t' me, mostly. He was tryin' real hard with 'licia, for a li'l, but I think her kneein' him in th' groin convinced him t' drop -that- idea..." She can't help but smirk a little at the image. Then she suddenly blushes deeply, and giggles again, looking intently into her soda.
Matt glances around, occasionally sipping his milkshake. As often happens when Garou go out, people around them find reasons to be on their way, nervously deciding they didn't really want dessert, or a refill on coffee. Soon, shortly after the mozzarella sticks arrive, the pair find themselves virtually alone in this part of the restaurant, the only table in Kathy's section. For his part, Matt feels more comfortable, as he can talk a little more freely with out worrying about breaking the Litany. (That part of it, at least.)
Matt cocks his head. "Gentlemanly? Hmph. He can be taught. How hard was 'licia tryin' ta tease the poor Ravi, before he got it in the orchestra, hmm? She makes her own trouble, sometimes."
"This," Bernie grants, still blushing, "is true. An' she -was- teasin' him, an' all, 'strue." She sips some of her shake through the straw, glancing around at the rapidly emptying section of restaurant, and seems to be considering whether to say something or not. In the meantime, she leans against him a little more.
A brief silence drop over the table, at least until Bernie looks up again and realizes Matt is staring at her.
Bernie does notice, after a few moments -- possibly a bit longer than it would usually take, since she was distracted a bit. She looks at him curiously, blinking once, and gains perhaps one level of pink. "...what?" she asks, setting the shake down again for a moment.
Matt shakes himself out of his reverie. "Nuffin', Books, just missed you, is all. Lot of time in Portland to waste just wondering what you were doin', where you were, if you'd Rited or were in trouble." His eyes tear up a little. "Oi couldn't get back 'ere fast enough."
Bernie goes all melty. It's actually visible, if not (thank god) literal. She turns a little and slides both arms around his waist, giving him a tight, warm hug. Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighs softly, and then replies, "...all sortsa things I'll talk yer ear off 'bout in a li'l, mostly at your place or th' Farmhouse or th' Park or th' Church, nope, of course, an' no, y' couldn't... not as far as I'm concerned, anyhow." She closes her eyes briefly, adding softly, "...I found out where y'went an' why, after a few days, but I still was gettin' all worried after a while somethin' mighta gone wrong.. y'know?"
Matt looks sheepish, and pleased at the same time, or tries. "'m sorry Oi didn't get a chance ta tell you whot was 'appennin', Books. Oi got a call from the lawyer, an' packed a quick bag." He runs a hand through her hair. "You should feel sorry for me, really. Over a fortnight fillin' out forms and jumpin' frough 'oops. You'd fink Oi was going ta /steal/ the damn country." He realizes he's babbling and quiets. "...An' Oi was worried about you, too."
That comment gets a light giggle. "But where wouldja keep it? Open up, Mr. Fulton! We know you've got the United States of America stashed under your matress in there!" Bernie teases. There's a slight pause as she catches herself starting to nuzzle into his neck, and forces herself to let go and sit up more properly again. The arrival of the rest of the meal facilitates the effort as well, Kathy looking a little disapprovingly at the pair as she sets the burgers down, and adds a bottle of ketchup. "There you go," she says, and eyes the cokes, "...I'll come back with refills shortly."
Matt does his best not to unconsciously terrify the help, even this close to the full moon. "Fanks, Kathy." He tucks into his burger for a minute, to the exclusion of almost everything else. He /is/ famished.
Bernie gives Kathy a slightly sheepish smile, and starts out with the fries, herself. Salt and a nice little pool of ketchup for dipping them in... well, the ketchup, of course, takes a little bit of work, but one good tap on the side of the bottle gets it flowing all right.
Matt demolishes the burger in a time that would make Luke proud, then borrows the ketchup to start on his own fries. "Good burger, Books. I feel a bit closer to even keel."
Bernie pauses long enough in her own rather slower burger-demolition to swallow and reply, "Good, an' I'm glad ya 'provea it... when'd y' get 'round t' eatin' last, anyhow?"
Matt looks up, thinking. "Um. Left Portland about nine, drove straight frough dinner...'bout this time last night, I guess." He shrugs, and munches on fries, four or five at a time.
Bernie nods, sipping the remnants of her Coke, just as Kathy comes by and refills them. "....thanks," Bernie says to her, before looking back to Matt, "Y'weren't on th' road th' whole time, were you?"
Matt shrugs. "The Lambretta only does about fourty, so. Most of the day, yeah."
Bernie winces. "You gotta be exhausted, huh?" She polishes off the burger, and moves on to the rest of her shake -- the fries appear to be on hold. "...di'n' sleep a whole lot last night either, act'ly, but 'least I got fed an' all."
Matt shrugs. "Oi've gone wifout before. I didn't want ta waste any time gettin' back to see if you...and the sept...were all roight. Besides," he says around a handful of fries. "Oi'm gettin' fed now..."
"...think I'll go 'head an' be selfish an' glad thatcha did," Bernie replies, and gestures at Matt with a fry, "...an' true, not only are y'gettin' fed now, but I'm pretty sure there could be even more food jus' for th' askin'. Well, a'ight, th' askin' -an'- th' payin', but still..."
"Oi like the company better this time." Matt grins. "So anyway, Alicia's campin' now, Cameron's back at th' farmhouse, Kaz is on our team and you get to go on yer...um, thing, same time as Oi do. 'ave Oi missed anyfing?"
"...-oh- yeah," Bernie assures him, a bit dryly, "lotsa stuff. but none I toldja 'bout yet. So full marks anyhow. Mosta it, though, I'll tell ya more 'bout at home... y'know?" She finishes her fries, and looks at him a few moments, shaking her head. "You were gone -so- -long-..."
Matt tries to smile, thinking about the long INS interviews and endless forms. "Believe me, Oi know. An' if it were anyfing less important, Oi'd 'ave told them where to fuck off, but the last fing Oi need is ta get deported roight after Riting, neh?" He sighs.
"Def'nitely. I don' even wanna think 'bout -that- idea..." A sip, and the coke, too, is done. Nothing left to eat but the sad sprig of parsley decorating the plate. The Gnawer pushes the empty plate slightly away. "I jus' meant, there's been so much goin' on an' all, it's kinda like it makes me re'lise it more. ...not like I di'n' notice -b'fore-, but... anyway. Y'wanna order d'ssert, or should we hold out for hershey kisses after th' Park?"
Matt shrugs. "We can save dessert for next time. Oi /like/ this place. Oi could eat 'ere all the time." He looks around again and finishes the last of his fries. "Y'said this is a chain?"
"An' th' best thing is," Bernie remarks, apparently agreeing about liking it, "it's always open. Where else y'gonna be able t' get a burger an' some pie an' coffee at 4:30 am, y'know?" She grins. "An' yeah, they're a chain... they're everywhere, y'know? Well, everywhere I've been, anyway, an' people've told me they're even in Canada..."
Matt shakes his head, and, disengaging momentarily from Bernie, he slides out of the booth. "As for dessert, Oi fink Oi'll settle for Kisses." The 'k' is /almost/ uppercase. He smirks a little and digs for his wallet, picking the check up with his free hand.
Bernie tilts her head and watches him, returning with the hint of a smirk herself, "Think I've gotcha supplied with those for a while..." She picks her jacket up from beside her, and slips it back on.
Matt pays without fanfare, and leaves an exorbitant tip on the table, before escorting Bernie back out into the cold. "Farmhouse? Decadence? Oi imagine the Church is pretty cold, this time of night."
"Park," Bernie replies, quite firmly. "...Then Dec'dence. That's where th' choc'late is, after all." She takes his hand and starts heading in the appropriate direction.
Matt snaps his fingers. "The /choc/olate. Roight. That's whot Oi meant, then." He cranks the Lambretta and pulls his helmet on over his grin.
Bernie laughs. "...'course," she replies, not entirely sincerely, "me too..." She gets properly settled behind him, and holds on nice and tight, ready to go.
[Harbor Park Fountain]
The barely muffled putter of a two-cylinder engine is audible long before the headlamp gives this scooter's position away, picking through the fence to approach the fountain. Both riders are helmeted, the former wears a jacket covered with embroidered patches, the latter bears a bulky backpack. Neither seem uncomfortable riding in the park at night.
Matt pulls off his helmet and turns off the scooter, attention alrady turning to the fountain, still encased in plyboard. He turns to Bernie and, collecting her helmet, asks "Done anyfin' wif it?" A nod confirms that he's referring to the fountain.
Well -- partially encased in plywood. A side and half has collapsed, revealing the twisted plumbing work that's all that yet remains of the old fountain. Handing over her helmet, Bernie slips off the scooter, and immediately hides her backpack in a bush. "Yes an' no," she replies, and glances up toward the moon. "Talked 'bout what t' do, haven't done it yet... c'mon. Toldja I was gonna show ya somethin'..." A small, stagnant puddle lingers near one edge of the plywood, and she heads over to look into it.
Matt follows, curious. "Whot the 'ell 'appened 'ere? Rotem?"
Bernie laughs a little, and shakes her head. "Nah... it jus' collapsed from rot an' age... an' he got worse, but seems like maybe he's gettin' better now. We c'n but hope..." She look up from the water to Matt, and grins, "...D'you trust me?"
Matt gives Bernie a Look. "Wif my life? Yes. To not prank me? Nah, you're a no-moon. Between you, Max, 'n' Alicia, my Rite celebration will probably look like somefin' out of 'Porky's.'"
Bernie manages a leer at Matt, though she can't help blushing a bit at just the effort, and shrugs, dropping just into a grin. "I'm sure we'll all thinka good ways t' celebrate an' all... but for now... jus' follow me..." She looks back into the puddle, and after a moment, fades across...
[Umbra: Harbor Park]
Matt blinks. After a bit, he blinks again. "Wow," he says in hushed tones. He rotates slowly, taking in the entire glade. "Wow."
Bernie watches Matt's reaction avidly, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Innit great?" she asks. "Kaz showed me. It's whatcha call a glade, she said, an' at one point, th' Gnawers were gonna make it inta a caern an' split off from th' Sept... there was some kinda problem goin' on, an' it got fixed, so they didn't. But... I couldn't wait t' show ya, an' I had t' wait almost th' -whole- time you were 'way..."
Matt is still speechless. "This is what it /should/ look like, neh? Wow." He spins one more time, then focuses on Bernie again. "Oi can see why you want ta set it right."
Bernie continues to smile, and wordlessly offers a hand to the other cub.
Matt takes the offered hand and pulls Bernie closer, wrapping an arm about her. "We need ta get you a dedicated sketchpad, or camera or somefin'..." He muses.
Bernie leans in, and looks intrigued at the idea. "A dedicated camera... think you could take pictures in th' Umbra with that? Wouldja hafta do th' rite on th' film? ...huh..." She trails off, thinking about it, and draws Matt along with her to the fountain itself.
Matt wonders himself. "No idea. Should pro'ly ask a feurge. Luke, maybe.... No, Luk'd wanta know whot Oi needed it for..." He is easily led, and peers into the water when they arrive.
Bernie gives Matt a completely unneccesary hug. "...I kinda hate t' tell ya th' resta th' fountain related stuff, right now..." She leans over, and touches it with one hand, "...but, see, it was all one solid chunka marble. An' I found out how much jus' th' marble costs -- like fifty grand. An' that's th' -block-, not carved or anythin'. So Kaz an' I, we figured maybe we'd hafta settle for a concrete fountain, which'll still cost lots, but prolly not th' same quarter mil th' city plans figured it'd cost t' make it like it useta be."
Matt stares into the water and thinks for a while. "How..." he looks up searching for words. "How /married/ are ye to the idear o' th' fountain lookin' /exactly/ loike it used ta?" He smiles a little, searching her expression for a non-verbal answer.
Bernie gives Matt a sideways look and a small smile of her own. "Not at all," she replies, "not 'f we can't make it look -'zactly- like it useta, marble an' all. I like this d'sign, but anythin' else we liked, we could also go with... we jus' gotta replace an' fix th' plumbin', make th' new fountain, however we d'cide t' do it, an' install it some dark night without anyone seein'..."
Matt rubs his chin, looking mischeivous. "Oi just had an idea, and Oi don't know if you'll loike it. We'd have to talk to more people, an' let them in on Th' Plan." He pulls Bernie down next to him on the edge of the fountain, stretching an arm around her.
"Try me," Bernie replies, wrapping an arm low around Matt in return. "Kaz already wants t' talk t' Brit'ny 'bout havin' her fund things, an' I said a'ight, but I don' think she talked t' her yet. So, out with th' brainstorm..."
Matt shrugs. "Well, Oi was finkin' how all we really 'ave are sketches of 'ow it used ta look, roight? Why don't we go to some of the art students at SCCU and see whot they can do wif 'em? A sort of 'mod' reinterpretation fing. Right kinda press and the state'll fall over itself ta pay for it." He looks to see if this meets approval. "...or we could not." He finishes, looking away, into the fountain.
"Well," Bernie replies, thoughtfully, "act'ly we've got th' old pictures of th' fountain too, even if they're kinda grainy... an' Kaz an' I were thinkin' of askin' lish t' draw a few things, 'cause she's a really good artist, y'know? But, see, thing is..." She trails off a little, considering. "...I don' -wanna- have th' city or th' state or anya them do it. They were s'posta do it twice already, an' all they got done was haulin' away th' leftover bits. Some guy was even donatin' th' quarter mil t' do it, an' it still didn't work out. Whatever we 'cide t' do, we gotta go it ourselves." A sudden burst of annoyance, likely fueled partly by the full moon, "I mean, I told 'em th' damn -fence- was broken more'n a -week- ago an' y'c'n see how well they got -that- handled! I'd do it m'self but I went down an' found out how much it'd cost, an' I don' quite have th' nerve t' shoplift sheetsa plywood bigger'n I am."
Matt nods quietly, chewing his lip. "yeah, stupid idea. Nevermind." he goes back to staring into the water, watching the warped reflection of lunes chasing each other in the 'sky' overhead. "You mean you doan't wanta steal the plywood," he sighs, "or you doan't want ta do it by yersel', then?"
Bernie pokes Matt firmly in the chest, once. "Not a stupid idea, so stop that. 's a perfickly -good- idea, jus' not gonna serve our ends, th' way things are..." She sighs slightly herself, and leans sideways against him. "I mean, I c'n talk my way outta a lotta things, but somehow I'm not seein' how t' make a convincin' case for why I'm walkin' off with sheetsa wood I c'n easily hide behind, an' I'm not seein' 'em not noticin' 'em walkin' away... y'know?" A moment of thought. "S'pose I could try somewhere when they're closed, if they di'n' have alarms an' cam'ras an' shit. Hmm."
"So why don't we just /buy/ th' plyboard, hmm?" Matt glances up from the fountain. "Can't be more'n fifteen bob or so."
"Eight hunnerd," Bernie corrects, rather flatly. "Be eight hunnerd t' do it right. 'cause they're -all- rotted, an' we r'place jus' th' two that fell, next week we gotta do morea 'em."
Matt scrunches up his face. "Roight. Bit more in American, wouldn't it? Hrm. Take me a couple fortnights ta put that much in me skyrocket. 'ow were ye goin' ta do the concrete? Pour it in forms, or carve it?"
Bernie nods. ''s why I jus' ended up reportin' it t' th' city an' coolin' my heels waitin' for them t' fix it... an' we hadn't 'cided what'd be best, yet, but I'm thinkin' pourin' it in forms, m'self."
Matt nods. "More plyboard. An' thin, so you can wet it and bend it for the curvy bits." He ponders some more. "Too bad there isn't a spiritual way ta do this. Earth spirits an' all."
Bernie nods, considering. "...yyyyeahhhh... wish I knew more 'bout that. But, anythin' like that, we'd need a theurge for I'd think, y'know? An' I dunno any I'd wanna bring in, 'cept -maybe- Cam, but he wouldn't know yet anyhow, so it wouldn't do much good. Y'know?"
Matt frowns slightly. "Cameron? No, he's not even out o' the farm'ouse. We'd need a more pwerful feurge than that. Oi don't even know if earf spirits could or would do it, for that matter."
Bernie nods, "'zactly, that's what I was sayin'... anyway we'd need, like, plumbin' spirits, too. Kaz's gonna learn from someone I dunno, JD, how t' fix it an' all."
Matt nods, sagely. "Plumbin' isn't to 'ard, but it's no fun when it's arse over tits. So anyway," He shifts to put his back to the fountain, "Whot else 'ave Oi missed? 'ave you and Max repainted my bedroom?"
Bernie grins, and leans in again. "Nah, not yet. I still get t' do th' ceilin', right? I was thinkin' of invitin' her t' come do it, but I only started thinkin' of it a few days 'go, an' it's been busy, so I di'n' yet... an' I di'n' buy ya a bed, either, sorry." She pushes a curl back behind her ear, the same one Matt had moved earlier. Again, it refuses to stay where placed. "As for what else y'missed... where t' start? Th' Russian Mafia's in town an' they gotta lista people that includes some kin, so people're workin' on doin' somethin' 'bout that... th' college, they found a metis skeleton out in th' woods, an' they're testin' it an' all; they think it's a short nosed bear or somethin', but th' guy who took 'em to it, he's in all th' tabloids sayin' it's Bigfoot, an' I'm s'posta head up a group t' distract an' discredit th' weirdos who come looking with, like, UFO abductions an' crop circles an' Elvis sightin's, wanna help? What else... Yi pretty much killed Rotem, ripped his throat out, but he got a healin' back t' not actively dyin' an' Kaz hamstrung him, an' then he was doin' better, but -then- he smarted off t' Tim, an' Tim ripped his guts out 'gain, an' since -then- he seems like maybe he fin'ly got his act t'gether... we'll see... Got my ass kicked by Tim too, only in a good way, trainin', y'know? An' we only did homid so it wasn't that bad. An' I think I s'prised 'em all 'cause I don' think they 'spected me t' know how t' fight at all." Now that he's there, everything she wanted to talk to him about at the time starts tumbling out at once. "I got Yi her job back, talked th' guy inta it, learned th' Persuasion thingy, an' th' Church has doors 'gain an' thank you, an' I've still been de-trashin' th' park, 'course, an' Kaz's startin' a new pack, with Max an' Tim an' N'vada, an' oh, heh, I got kinda drunk one night, which was a new an' int'restin' 'sperience, an' I saw Shadow Claws in th' Umbra 'gain th' other day when Kaz an' I took Rotem there, an' oh, so with th' Bigfoot thing, me an' Kaz an' Roto-rooter were in th' Church basement, an' this paper airplane flies in an' lands in my hair! An' it's a note, an' it says th' writer knows 'bout th' bones an' if we want help t' pick up th' phone when it rings, an' this message will self-destruct, an' it did! So then it's this computer on th' phone an' it -does- know shit an' so we made a deal with it t' help us an' all..." She trails off, and blushes, "...heh, an'... nah, nevermind."
Matt tries gamely to keep up. "So not much goin' on then?" He manages with a straight face, for a second or two. Then he starts chuckling.
Bernie starts laughing as well, only slightly embarrassed. "I -told- ya you missed a lot..." She nibbles her lower lip a moment, thoughtfully, and pushes her glasses back into place, blushing a bit more. "...an' y'know? Alla that, an' -none- of it's th' weirdest thing that happened." She pauses, weighing things, "...wellll, then 'gain, th' mysterious computer voice might at least tie, overall..."
Matt calmly raises an eyebrow, encouraging Bernie to continue. A little half-smile plays around his lips betraying his amusement.
"...an' act'ly, it's all your fault, too!" Bernie exclaims as if this has just occurred to her, the blush rising a bit. She starts at the beginning, "...see, so, like a week ago, I was missing you a lot -- that's why it's all your fault, see -- an' so, I was at the Farmhouse, an' I was drinkin' somea th' Guinness, 'cause it's good, an' 'cause, I dunno, it makes me thinka you, even if Cam -does- insist on puttin' it all in th' fridge alla time... an' so anyway he an' I were talkin' an' stuff an' I ended up havin' like foura 'em, an' I was tired an' hadn't eaten an' all, so I got kinda drunk, not really really or anythin', jus' a li'l, an' he was all nice an' put me t' bed an' stuff, an' in th' mornin', 'lish came by. An' so he told her I'd gotten drunk an' not t' go up an' disturb me 'cause I was sleepin'." She pauses. "Anyhow 'lish gets th' impression I was, like, megadrunk or somethin', so next time I see her, she basically is all tryin' t' like do an intervention or somethin', an' I'm like, don't worry, 'kay? Only been drunk once, there is no big scary habit here, honest. An' so she gets pissed an' we end up havin' this big ol' fight. Then next day she comes an' 'pologises, an' we're all jokin' 'round, an' Tom shows up, you know, her boyfriend? An' so then she's all jokin' that we were 'bout t' go up an' have sex, an did he wanna join us? An' so we were all bein' silly with that, only then she wasn' joking! So I was like, um... thanks, an' I'm, y'know, I guess honoured an' all, but, uh, no thanks, um, maybe later... an' so she was like, okay, an' she kissed me." Bernie blinks a couple times, definitely bright red. "I think she was tryin' t' mess with my mind. But, hey, seein' as it came up in conversation way back when, now I guess I -have- kissed her after all." She looks sidelong at him, a bit sheepishly. "Still rather kiss you."
Matt smiles. "As you wish." Placing a hand gently on the back of her neck, he reaches up to kiss her, gently, then more insistently, a month of worry and frustration working themselves out in cathartic release.
Bernie returns the kiss without hesitation, turning in toward him a bit more and moving her arms to rest one hand on his shoulder, and the other around near the back of his neck. Fueled by her own month of those emotions, her end of things is just as ardent.
After a very long moment, breathless, Matt breaks. "Mmm. Roight. Knew there was a reason Oi came back." He winks. "Give the spirits of this place a boost, that surely did. Oi imagine people did that all the time in th' Realm, before it got all arsed."
Bernie takes a slow, deep breath, eyes still shut, and then opens them and laughs a little, ducking her head. "'spect so. ...though judgin' from somea th' trash I've picked up here, gotta be a few who still do..." She just watches him for a moment or two before reluctantly retrieving her arms.
Matt frowns. "Oi. 'an 'oo said you were dismissed, young lady?" He kisses her again, more gently, but with no less passion. In fact at one point he almost loses his balance, coming dangerously close to plunging them both into the fountain.
Bernie giggles, though it's muffled, and returns her arms to their previous position, kissing him eagerly. She squeaks as they teeter, but doesn't break the kiss until well after they're righted again. "Sorry, sir," she replies, smiling micheviously, "dunno what I coulda been thinking..." Apology given, her lips quickly find his again.
Eventually Matt's exhaustion catches up with him, and he is forced to break off mid-kiss to yawn hugely. "Sorry. Long day. Pr'aps we should 'ave some chocolate?"
Bernie nods, eyes practically sparkling. "It's always time for choc'late," she replies, with a small smile. She pulls her arms back for the second time, one hand sliding down Matt's arm from his shoulder to his hand, and interlacing their fingers.
Matt takes her hand and stands, hand firmly grasped. Peering into the fountain he reaches across...
[Harbor Park Fountain]
Matt shivers a little. "Oi. Definitely colder on this side." He passes out helmets quickly, hoping to get back inside soon.
"Definitely," Bernie agrees, pronouncing each syllable for once. After sswiftly retrieving her backpack, she slips the helmet on and fastens it, sliding into her spot behind Matt on the bike as soon as he's in place. She wraps her arms close about his waist, and is ready to go.
[Bohemian Decadence]
Matt unlocks the door and bustles quickly into the room, closing it behind Bernie and locking it. He doesn't remove his coat until he's gone to the thermostat and assured himself that it's set for sevety-five or so and that the heat is kicking in.
Bernie drops her backpack gently but unceremoniously beside the couch, then removes her jacket and drops it over the arm of the sofa. She doesn't sit immediately, standing with one hand resting on the back of the couch as she watches Matt work with the thermostat.
Seemingly satisfied, Matt removes his jacket, revealing his oh so sexy unbuttoned flannel shirt and t-shirt ensemble. The jacket goes in the closet, as does Bernie's. He tries to close the door, but gives up after a few tries. "Fookin' door," he growls.
Bernie laughs, leaning against the poor abused furniture, and remarks, "...I gotta r'member t' do somethin' 'bout that, sometime..." She tilts her head slightly, looking curious, and walks right over to him, one hand moving up to his neck and grasping the necklace gently between two fingers as she arrives. With a quick smile, she asks, "...suddenly wondered, your sister ask if you converted, or anythin'?"
Matt snorts. "No, but the INS guys did. Whole barrage o' questions 'bout why Oi put 'Episcopal' on dozens o' forms if Oi was Jewish. Oi just looked at 'im, an' Oi fink the Curse got 'im. He backed off roight quick."
Bernie bursts out laughing, and shakes her head, curls bouncing. "Freaks. Hope he ended up all antsy all day..." She dares to steal another quick kiss before releasing the chain. "...sometime, I'm gonna go down an' visit my fam'ly, sometime after I Rite an' all, y'know? You should come with, when I do."
Matt nods. "Love to. Mebbe Oi should find a ring first, to mess wif yer parents..." He grins as he trails off.
Bernie giggles. "You know what they'd prolly do? They'd prolly say, congratulations, an' when's th' baby due?" Only the hint of a blush, as she grins, then pauses, a thought striking her. "...'fact, I just re'lised, my mom an' dad were our age when they got married. 'cause Clarence was comin', y'see..." She shrugs, "..worked out okay though..." a glance toward the silver-dotted tabletop, then back to Matt, "...y'wanna Kiss?" Probably an uppercase 'K', there...
Matt opens a hand to catch a piece of candy. "Sure. Pitch 'er 'ere. Really? That young? So you're the...third oldest?" He strains to remember.
Bernie scoops up a handful from the table, and wanders back to take a seat on the couch. Instead of throwing one over, she just dangles it tauntingly in the air over the empty space beside her as she replies, "Yup, yup, an' yup. Mom was sixteen when Clarence came 'long, then there was Lola, an' she jus' had Penny last year, then me, then Bobert, then Naomi, an' then Sam..."
Matt leaps the back of the couch to plop down in the offered space, claiming his chocolatey prize. "Bobert?" he asks.
"Bobert," Bernie confirms, snuggling in a bit and dumping the rest of the kisses in their laps before picking one out to unwrap. "Robert Anth'ny. Bobert's my nickname for him... was always closer t' him than anya my other sibs. Mostly, times I miss anya them, us'ly I miss him." She nibbles at the revealed chocolate.
Matt unwraps his and pops it into his mouth without chewing. Better to let it melt. "Least it's a nickname. The Upper Class name their teakettles the wierdest things. Worst Oi ever 'eard was a set 'o triplets named Shadrach, Meeshak and Obednigo. I felt sorry for those poor bastards." Slurping on the chocolate makes his accent even more difficult than usual.
Bernie blinks. "...Shadrach, Meeshak, and Obednigo?" she repeats, unsure she heard that right, "...almost makes me happy with Bernice Ruth." She makes a face. "I would be th' one t' get th' reaction name. They were callin' Clarence by his middle name, Phoenix, an' then my sister was Lola Delicious, an' so th' resta th' fam'ly an' all were givin' 'em trouble 'bout bein' so fanciful with th' names, so they go an' prove they c'n be down-t'-earth an' downright stodgy with me." A pause, and the corner of her lips quirk up. "...Alas."
"Most of 'em went by their middle names," Matt admits. "Second names. They were rich enough ta have more than three." Smiling at Bernie he adds "There's nothing wrong with Bernice Ruth Rosenberg. Nothing at all."
"'cept that it sounds like someone's gran'mother..." She smiles at him, and adjusts her glasses a bit. "I think Naomi Sharon came off best, of th' girls, namewise. But I guess it'd be weird t' be anythin' else than Bernie, at this point... so, oh well." She picks out another hershey's kiss, and unwraps it slowly.
Matt leans forward to pluck another kiss from the coffee table and unwrap it. "Could be worse, I suppose. They could 'ave named you Gregory or somefin'."
Bernie mrms, and pops the kiss she just unwrapped into Matt's mouth, or attempts to at least. "Greg'ry's a nice name, though. I mean, granted, I'da ended with even more people assumin' I'd be a guy, but that tends t' get sorted out PDQ when people see me... but yeah, -could- be worse. Coulda been... Bertha. Or Agnes. Or Murgatroyd."
Matt mmms. "Murgatroyd. Good one. Remind me ta try not ta earn that one as a deed name. Seriously, d'ye fink yer name makes you somehow less beautiful?"
Bernie gives it a few moments' serious thought, then shakes her head. "Mmm... no, not really. I coulda been Jenn'fer Tiff'ny an' I think I'd still be 'bout the same, really.... but who knows, yeah? I useta hate my name, but I'm 'kay with it now."
"So..." Matt start to say something, but yawns again instead. "Hoo. All right. Oi can take a hint." He smiles, covering another yawn with the back of his hand. "Oi fink Oi'm going ta get some bo peep. You wanta stay?"
Bernie nods, looking a little sleepy herself. "Oh, hell yes," she replies, a bit quieter than usual. "Maybe I'll act'ly get, y'know, a full nighta sleep again. Tha'd be lovely..." She pushes up from the couch, disappearing fleetingly into the bathroom, and reappearing quite quickly, reclothed for bed.
Matt simply sheds clothes as he walks to the bedroom: boots, which he leaves next to the couch, shirt, jeans. By the time he gets to the pile of blankets he's down to boxers and socks. Another yawn, and a shiver. The bedroom is a little colder than the living room.
Bernie follows to the familiar nest of bedding. "Sometime," she remarks, and smiles, "jus' possibly, an actual bed might 'ventually be in order..."
Matt nods, rubbing his head. "Mattress at least." He puts an arm around her, drawing blankets around them until warmth returns to his feet.
"Yeah," Bernie agrees, snuggling in warmly, and resting her head on his chest with a quiet, satisfied sigh. "Y'still make a good pillow... g'night, Matt," she murmurs, curling in there contentedly. Matt's in his 'partment, all's right with the world.