Matt fiddles in the kitchenette, putting bowls on the counter, silverware, that sort of thing. He is, for some reason, wearing cow slippers.

Bernie pads out of the bathroom, drying off her hands on her sweats, face looking freshly washed, and over toward the kitchenette, stifling a yawn. Leaning against the nook's entry, she watches Matt a bit before asking... "'chupto?"

Matt's hair is mussed from sleep (not that many people could tell), and he looks bleary. "Couldn't sleep. Keyed up, or nervous, Oi suppose." He continues to prepare something, placing another bowl on the counter next to his own.

"How come? Thinkin' 'bout th' Rite stuff," Bernie breaks off, and snickers, "...great, now I got New Kids Onna Block in my head, jus' what I wan'ed... anyway, 'bout all that, or somethin' else?" She relaxes against the corner, and attempts to slide her hands into her pants pockets. Unfortunately, the sweats don't have pockets. She looks briefly startled and annoyed about this fact, and ends up crossing her arms loosely over her stomach instead.

Matt smiles mischievously. "Somefin' like that. Here, siddown. Oi bought ice cream." He pulls a couple quart containers of Dove Chocolate out of the freezer.

Bernie pushes up from the wall. "Ooh!" she exclaims, and grins, "...knew there was a reason I liked ya." She moves over to the couch, and sits down as ordered, curling up in the corner of it with her knees tucked beside her.

Matt shows his Fianna-ness, or at least, non-Gnawer-ness, by scooping the ice cream out of the containers and placing it in bowls. He offers one to Bernie, then returns to the Kitchen to get a couple glasses of water. "Actually," he says, returning to the couch, "Oi saw the Righ in the battle, on th' way back inta the city."

Bernie balances the bowl carefully on the side of her thigh, and looks over to the other cub with interest. "Yeah? ...aaan' wha'd he have t' say, then?" she asks, wielding her spoon but not yet taking a bite.

The Fianna tries to conceal his shit-eating grin, but fails. "'e said Wednesday."

"Wednesday?" Bernie almost -- but not quite -- squeals, and hops up, at the last moment preventing the ice cream from spilling by setting the bowl down on the arm there, "Tha's so cool! 'bout time he got 'round t' it, too..." She gives Matt an exuberant hug. "'gratz! He say what it'd be or anythin', or jus' th' time?"

Matt isn't expecting the hug, and spills some melted ice cream on his chest. "ack! No, nuffin' but the time, and 'just bring yerself.' So Oi'm off me feed a little. Again."

Bernie giggles. "...you'll kick ass. Completely. An' you may be off yer feed, but 'parently it's on you..." She indicates the spilt ice cream, removing the majority of it with a swipe of her finger and licking that off as she returns to her comfy spot on the couch, and her own bowl of dessert.

Matt's face wears a goofy, faraway look when Bernie wipes off the ice cream, but a slight shake of the head, a chuckle and Matt follows to the couch, sitting next to Bernie and digging in.

Bernie leans lightly against Matt's side, and digs into her ice cream. "...okay," she declares after a couple bites, "you hereby have my permission t' buy this alla time, really, I don' mind..." A hand moves up to relocate one of the few curls not restrained in the ponytail, and she remarks, "...only thing's sad is, still think it'd've been cool if we coulda Rited t'gether."

Matt looks up from his bowl. "Yeah, but Oi s'pose it depends on the Rite. Luke adda go ta Boston fer his. Oi may 'ave ta go 'ome, even."

Bernie looks slightly troubled, taking another bite of her ice cream before commenting, "...guess that'd prolly take a while, huh."

Matt shrugs. "Wish Oi knew." He doesn't look exactly pleased by the prospect. "It could take a while though, Books. Oi might be gone again fer days. Hell, Oi might not come back at all, neh?" He rubs the back of his head, holding the spoon out of his hair as he does so. Old worries coming back anew.

"You =will=," Bernie replies firmly, as if being determined enough about it could make it so. "Jus'... y' only just got back an' all, an' I kina wish you weren't gonna be gone 'gain so soon... but, y'know. Good cause an' all." She smiles slightly, and adds, "..an' anyhow, 'f y' died I'd kill ya."

Matt smiles shyly at this, and bops her on the nose with his spoon. This leaves a spot of chocolate ice cream, which he kisses away.
"Oi wanta get it done an' done. Yah?" Matt admits. "Oi want ta start learnin' fings cubs can't be taught."

Bernie blushes a bit at the kiss, and leans sideways against Matt a bit more. "Yeah," she agrees, "I get wan'in' it done... so what sorta things can't cubs be taught, then? I kinda got th' impression we're s'posta soak pretty much alla it up now."

Matt shrugs his shoulders, eating. Around the ice cream, he replies. "Rites, mostly, and gifts, beyond the basic stuff. Oi want ta learn the Rite of Talisman Dedication."

"Ooh, the clothes thing... I almost forgot 'bout that stuff. Yeah..." The Gnawer nods, working on her dessert. "Tha'd all be cool t' know. An' th' one t' find people, an' stuff..."

Matt finishes his ice cream and steals a spoon of Bernie's, since it's right here, and she's talking...

Bernie gasps in mock-dismay. "Hey!" she protests, spanking the back of Matt's hand with her spoon, "...thief." Her grin really does nothing for the effectiveness of the scolding.

Matt licks the ice cream off the back of his hand, waggling his eyebrows. "You weren't payin' it th' proper respect, see. 's why yer not a feurge. Oo." He rubs his temples, which are suddenly hurting.

"Ice cream headache," Bernie diagnoses, and sticks her tongue out at the Fianna. "Let the punishment fit th' crime. Ha. Serves you right. An' oh, trust me, I properly r'spect this ice cream..." She takes another spoonful, and eats it in a particularly reverent and blissful manner, for his benefit. The bowl, however, remains easily within his reach.

Matt dabs the back of his spoon in the ice cream, then on Bernie's neck. "Oh. No. Oi appear to 'ave made a dreadful mess." He makes the Mcaulay Culkin face, sans scream, then proceeds to kiss the ice cream away.

Bernie shivers slightly at the sudden cold on her skin, but giggles and tilts her head a bit, echoing, "Oh, no. Whatever shall we do? ...mm."

Matt smiles, and kisses her neck again, then scores another spoon of ice cream while he has her distracted.

Maybe she is distracted; if Bernie notices the theft she ignores it this time, eyes half-closed. She smiles, and reopens them, going back to eating the ice cream with a tiny, rather contented sounding sigh. A sidelong glance to Matt, and she remarks, "...uh oh... th' mess 's contagious!" before darting in to kiss him on the lips, removing the trace that had remained there. "..better," she declares with a quick grin as she settles back again.

Matt laughs, contented. It doesn't sound like a worried laugh anymore. He pushes up from the sofa and takes his bowl to the sink to wash it out, then returns. "d'ye fink Oi should get a telly?" He waves toward the decidedly empty corner of the living room where a coil of co-ax wire protrudes from a wall outlet.

Bernie finishes up her own bowl of ice cream, chasing the melted bits with her spoon while she considers. "Sure, why not?" she decides, after a while, "...I mean, y'don' =hafta= have it on, an' maybe there's somethin' int'restin' on sometimes. Handy t' put things on top of, too..." She grins again and heads to the kitchen to rinse out her bowl as well.

Matt nods. Getting up with her. "Oi was just finkin' 'ow there isn't really anyfing ta look at from th' safa, 'cept pr'aps th' door." He yawns. "Anyway, Oi'm for it again. Join me, Oi hope?" He nods toward the bedroom.

"Well, 'f y'do ask Max t' paint th' place, I bet that'll change... an' yeah," Bernie replies, walking back to Matt and taking hold of his hand, "love t' join ya. Are y' comin' apart?" She grins at him again, and follows to the other room.

Matt has no answer for that, except perhaps a sigh as she lays next to him. Tomorrow he will worry about his Rite. Tonight there is comfort, and sleep.