Matt fumbles with the locks a little, then swings the door open.

The table is set for dinner; no food in evidence, of course, but the china and silverware are there. The room smells of baked chicken. Bernie is curled up in her usual corner of the sofa, involved enough in whatever she's scribbling in her notebook that she doesn't even notice the door at first, looking up, startled, when it finally registers that it's opening.

Matt smiles as he enters. "Hi."

Bernie smiles softly, flipping the book shut. "Hey," she replies quietly, "Whatcha been up to? Kina missed ya."

Matt shrugs, sheepishly. "Oi was at th' Rialto, wif Ten Speed, learning Talisman Dedication. Oi 'afta get all mystical.

Bernie blinks, and her brow furrows slightly before she grins. "I think I'm hurt she's teachin' it t' you first. Hmph. Pretty sure I =asked= first." She doesn't really sound all that put out about it, though. "So how's it goin'? You got ht' mystical mojo flowin' yet?"

Matt shakes his head. "Nah. An Oi went ta =her=, buggin' 'er about it. Mainly 'cause Tecmessa an' Megan promised ta teach me stuff when Oi got done. An' no. Nothin' mystical yet. Gotta find a mantra."

"Ohwah Tagoo Siam?" Bernie suggests innocently, giving a rather impressive stretch and pushing up from the couch to approach the Fianna. "What kina mantra's it s'posta be?"

Matt shrugs. "OI doan't know. One that works, gets me in th' frame o' mind ta talk ta Gaia. Finkin' about checkin' out th' ovver side o' 'arbor Park ta fink about it. Find a bench..." He pulls her to him as she approaches, and hugs fiercely. "Hi."

Bernie steps into the hug, squeezing back just as tightly, for quite a while. "Mmm. Hi," she almost purrs in reply, and kisses gently but lingeringly. "....hungry?"

Matt nods. "Famished. What's the jim? Chicken?"

"Mmhmm..." Bernie releases him and steps into the kitchen, pulling the food out of the oven, where it had been warming. "...ta da. Chicken and rice. And salad." The latter she produces from the fridge, setting everything on the table. "Look, I'm useful!"

Matt laughs, with an edge of anger to it. "An 'oo said you weren't?"

Bernie shrugs. "Eh, no one..." She makes a Vanna gesture at the table, and pulls out a chair.

"Fookin' roight," Matt comments. "Oi've never met a less useless person, Books." He takes a seat at the table, adding "Rotem, now there's a waste of skin."

Bernie shakes her head a little. "Nah, kid's not all bad... he's just gotta keep learnin'. I think he's fin'ly startin' t' get it..." She serves the food out onto the dishes as she talks. "'ventually he might even be good t' have 'round. I dunno. Think he's got potential, d'spite th' screw ups. He =has= gotten better, for sure."

Matt raises both eyebrows. "You see more of 'im than Oi do. Fookin' anorak, fer my pictures o' th' queen." He inhales deeply the scent of dinner. "Mmmm. This smells great, Books, hurry up, sit down, let's eat!"

Bernie grins and slides into her seat, perfectly willing to drop that topic for the time being. "Thanks..." She starts cutting her chicken, looking thoughtful. "I still can't thinka a good way t' fake an alien abduction," she remarks, apropos of very little.

Matt shrugs, slicing into his chicken and stabbing a mouthful with his fork. "None Oi can fink of. You'd need a good actor, 'oo's in on it, an' can take the attention o' the media. Oi don't fink we fit that description."

Bernie grins wickedly, and nods. "I know," she replies, after swallowing her bite of chicken, "tha's why I'm tryin' t' figure out how t' convince some completely unsuspectin' random stranger inta thinkin' he's been abducted an' sent back. Seems t' me maybe it's somethin' th' Delirium could come in useful for, from what people've said 'bout it, but, y'know, I don' wanna break th' Veil an' I dunno for sure jus' how someone'd react... but jus' goin' with stuff anyone c'n do... I bet if we put on, like, alien costumes, an' drugged someone up right, gave 'em a proper light an' prop show, left 'em in bed, that'd do th' trick... problem is, kina unethical. I mean, would hafta be really careful; wouldn' wanna permanently hurt anyone... or get caught." She munches on a mouthful of salad, comtemplatively.

Matt eats his chicken slowly, thinking. "Aye, Delirium's risky. Never know 'ow it's goin' ta affect someone, an' it isn't worth the Veil ta do it. You're doin' all this ta protect th' Veil. Breakin' it in th' process would be a bit of a clanger. Oi like fakin' it though. And usin' cheap drugs. We want it to be kenned as a hoax pretty quick anyhow, neh?"

Bernie giggles. "Yeah, kina what I was thinkin', it jus' came t' mind 'cause someone said somethin' once 'bout how people tend t' rationalize after, y'know? So th' mundane way's better... an' I think, this one, we don' wan' it caught, 'least not fast. Partly 'cause it's gotta grab an' hold attention, partly 'cause th' bones, I dunno yet what tests'll get released, an' if those come out lookin' intriguin', somea this other stuff gotta look good too... an' partly 'cause we =really= don't want th' cops out lookin' for who did th' whole druggin' thing. Y'know? These things don' hafta be perfick, we def'nitely want skeptics t' be able t' go, no way, it's a hoax, it's made up, so th' undecideds go ha, all this shit is so dumb, but th' believers, they gotta be able t' believe or they'll stick t' th' one they feel like they can. Y'know? ...so if we knew real aliens, we wouldn' want =them= t' do a =real= abduction, but 'f we do it, yeah, we should do it well."

Matt says "So we abduct someone. Oi dunno much about drugs though. That was Tim."

Bernie bites her lower lip, eyes widening slightly at the idea of really, truly doing that one, and then laughs again. "I c'n do research on it... an' there's a few people 'round here might be helpful, too... prolly gotta be =real= careful, would suck t' kill 'em or somethin'..." She winces a little at the thought. "An' we gotta pick th' person carefully, too. Need someone who lives 'lone, fairly isolated, an' b'lieves in this stuff..." She polishes off her chicken, and pushes the plate very slightly away.

Matt's chicken also goes the way of the dodo, and he stands to put his plate in the sink. "You do th' research, Books, Oi fink Oi can speak for yer pack an' say we'll 'elp wif the rest. Oh, that reminds me. Oi tol' Kaz we'd 'ave everyone up for supper on Tuesday. Around nine. 'Sat all roight?"

"'s lovely," Bernie replies, moving her dirty dishes to the sink as well, and what food remains to the fridge. "Though, not like y' hafta ask me, y'know." She grins, leaning against the fridge a bit, and adds, "...we might need a couple more chairs, though. What're we gonna serve?"

Matt gives her an I-dunno shrug. "Oi was finkin' home-made pizza. Whot d'you fink?"

Bernie shrugs back agreeably. "Works for me... I'll make somethin' desserty t' go with. Well, t' go after, anyway."

Matt nods, leading the way toward the bedroom and the bed (!).

Bernie catches up to Matt, sliding her arms loosely around his waist from behind and matching step like some very odd little parade. "Left, left, left right left," she sings softly, grinning over his shoulder.

Matt whistles the theme to Bridge over the River Kwai, or the first few bars of it, anyway. About the time it's recognizeable, and he's near the bed, he cracks up and can't whistle anymore.

Bernie giggles too, and launches herself sideways onto the bed, yanking the Fianna along with her. The mattress bounces very satisfactorially as they land on it. "Ha!" she exclaims, still giggling, "I have you now!"

Matt makes a scaredy-face, hands thrown up to protect himself. "Oh no," he cries, falsetto. "Oi am captured!"

"Yup!" the girl declares happily, "My prisoner. No chancea 'scape, y'know, so don't even bother t' try..." Her arms tighten about his waist in a close squeeze, and she kisses along the side of his neck a little before rather apologetically adding, "...'course I'll be forced t' torture you an' all. 's in th' rulebook."

Matt moans. "Can you torture me in my sleep?" He turns to kiss her back, in the curve of her throat.

Bernie mms softly, chin tilting up a tad, and then sighs. "Well, I =s'pose= so... but it jus' wouldn' be th' same, y'know? What fun'd an unconscious victim be?" She moves one of her hands to brush against a bit of his hair, and leans in to kiss him softly again. "...I guess maybe I could put it off 'til t'marra?" she asks a bit shyly, but hopefully.

Matt pulls out an imaginary datebook, flips invisible pages. "Mmm, hmm. Oi seem ta be free tomorrow. Oi'll pencil you in." He does so, with of course, an imaginary pencil. "To-morrow...torture, say, sixish?" Making this note, he kicks off his shoes and pulls his shirt over his head.

"Hmm, sixish, sixish... yeah, th' Suitcase Nukes fer Fun an' Profit seminar's canceled; I c'n do that. Sixish," Bernie agrees, and grins. She sits up and unlaces her boots, dropping her shirt and jeans beside them for the night. The glasses are more carefully placed beside the bed as she slips between the sheets; she might need to actually get up and see at some point during the night. "Meanwhile," she yawns as they curl up in the usual position, and she finds a comfy place on his shoulder to rest her head, "think I'll just fraternize with th' en'my a li'l..." Tipping her head up, she plants a light peck on his jawline before getting settled again. "G'night."

Matt kisses her gently on the mouth before cradling her to sleep. "G'night, Books."