Matt must not have to work today, because he is still dead asleep. He hasn't given up on the 'nest of blankets' method of sleeping either, judging from the way the bedspread is wadded around his waist and legs. His breathing is slow and deep, but his brow is furrowed, as if he's not having the best dream ever.

It was a late night; Bernie's still asleep too. Not, however, in the bed. She seems to have reclaimed her sleeping bag from the old nest, for the night, and is curled up in it on the sofa, clad in her original sleepwear again -- well, the Depeche Mode shirt is visible, the sweatpants and socks can only be assumed. She's sort of snuggled with one of the couch's throw pillows, and though she doesn't look entirely serene, the only thing really barring that is some slight furrowing of her own brow.

Once again, Matt curls around the spot Bernie would be, and once again she isn't there. This time, however, the addition of a little sunlight creeping in through the blinds wakes him, groggily. Scratching his head, he comes out into the living room.

Bernie isn't quite wakened by the minor increase of noise in the apartment, but it does bring her closer to the edge of sleep, and she murmurs something unintelligible, curling up further around the pillow, almost to the fetal position, though that really isn't entirely possibly on the couch. The sudden feeling of being not quite completely securely balanced jolts her awake, eyelids flicking open, and her brow furrows farther as she tries to figure out just where the hell she is, in those first bleary moments of wakefulness. This cushion is not usually what she sees...

"Books?" Matt croaks. Vocal cords not quite awake either. "Ye didn't foind th' new bed uncomfortable enough?" A thought seems to occur to him. "Ye want some juice?"

Things coalesce. Oh. Right. Bernie glances at the throw pillow and pushes to sit up, setting the thing behind her in the corner of the couch. "...nah," she replies tiredly and quietly, not looking at him, but rather feeling around on the coffee table for her glasses, "...jus' th' opposite..." She rubs her eyes and slips the glasses on, blinking as she focuses. "Juice. Yeah. A'ight."

Matt heads blearily toward the fridge and find the orange juice inside. He shakes the container a few times to stir it, and sets it on the counter. What next? Oh, yes. Glasses. Cabinet, glasses. He pours one for himself, one for Bernie and brings them back to the couch.

Bernie has ended up sitting crosslegged on the couch, legs still within the sleeping bag, and has picked up one of the books from the table, scanning it as it lies open on her lap. She barely glances up as the juice arrives, taking one of the glasses with an unusually perfunctory, "Thanks." Taking a sip, she continues to read the page. It looks like accounts of alien abductions; research, then.

As he takes a long drink of orange juice, Matt raises a curious eyebrow. "Wossa matter?" he asks, wiping the juice from his upper lip with the back of his hand. "Stuck on the abduction fing?"

Bernie shakes her head, taking another sip. "No," she replies, still focusing on the book, "not stuck. Research is goin' fine. Peachy." A pause, while she takes another, longer and slow drink of the juice. "So," she says then, terribly casually, gaze still not moving from the page, "what'd you do last night?"

Matt shrugs. "Pitch asked me ta work an extra shift. 'pparently Oi scared off one o' the new busboys." He smirks, sadly. "'m not tryin' ta be particularly scary. Must joost be th' Rage showin'."

"....ah." Dammit. That's a good reason. Bernie taps the fingertips of her free hand lightly against the page, starting to actually =look= upset, now. Can't be completely pissed off with a good reason, but can't make herself just go oh, well that's all right then... she sips the juice again, then sets the glass on the table.

Realization dawns slowly, but surely. Matt looks sheepish and apologetic. "Oh, bollocks. 'm sorry, Books. Oi didn't mean ta worry ye or anyfin'." He looks around the room. "We need a phone 'ere, Oi suppose."

Bernie nods. "Yeah... might be good," she agrees, and then, finally, looks at him again. "I mean... 's not like you shoulda hafta check in with me or anythin', I'm mean I'm not, like, your parole officer or anythin', 's just..." She trails off, and glances down, looking a bit hurt, "...I kina thought we had plans..."

Matt facepalms. "Oi. Fook. OI'm doubly sorry, then. Oi completely forgot. So focused was Oi on 'avin' th' pack over /tonight/, sure an' Oi forgot yesterday." He's blushing, abashed.

Another bit of a nod to that, and Bernie actually blushes a bit herself. "Well. I mean.... I guess it wasn' really... all that important, anyhow..." she mumbles. A hand goes up, fingercombing the sleep-touseled curls into something resembling neatness.

Matt sets his empty glass of juice down and crosses over to her. "Pull th' ovver one. Really. Whot's bovvering you? Somefin' Oi did? This?" he waggles a hand toward the magazines. "Whot?"

"...maybe 's partly 'causea th' moon," Bernie says after a bit of thought, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders, "an', I dunno, maybe I'm over-reactin'. But I... I mean..." She blushes deeper as she speaks, and then sighs, frustrated with her current lack of eloquence. "I just... I was kina..." Her voice gets softer as she goes, struggling to come up with something she can actually get herself to say, "...was kina... looking forward to kissing you... and... stuff." Getting that much out helps; the next bit comes in a rush, "...it's just you're always tired or busy an' I know it's not really your fault but I just... I dunno. I kina... miss you, recently." She bites her lip, making a face at herself. Why can't these things ever come out the way she feels they ought to?

Matt blushes again, deeper. "Oh." He moves up to sit on the couch next to her. "Well." He's not having a much better time putting words together, so he does the next best thing. He turns her head to his with a gently hand, and kisses her, lightly. "'m Sorry."

Bernie looks at him for a second before darting in to return the kiss, quick and light again. "....'kay," she replies, softly, and smiles a little, though she's still quite pink.

Matt puts his arms around her. and kisses her again, with a little more confidence. "Y'know," he adds, breaking the kiss momentarily, "If ye missed me, Oi was roight in there, wif nuffin' on but bedsheets."

The thought sends a tiny shiver down the girl's spine, and she can't quite keep her eyes from trailing down over the visible areas of skin as she slides her arms around him as well. "...I was mad atcha, though," she murmurs, "an' you were asleep..."

Matt kisses her on the cheek, half-nibbling his way to the base of her throat, wher he pauses, to reply. "Oh," he breathes. "So, you're not mad now, then?"

Bernie's lips part a bit, eyelids lowering halfway. "...nnno," she decides, "not mad now. I think, forgiven..." Her hand finds its way to the back of his neck, and rubs it softly.

"Mebbe..." Matt kisses her throat, "Oi'll get..." her neck, at the jawline, "a cell-phone." He reaches her ear, and nibbles.

"Mmmm?" Bernie asks, rather distracted. "...mm. But 'f y' took it with you, you still wouldn't be able t' call here... 'less there was a normal phone too..." Her eyes close completely, and she tips her head down slightly, with a little sigh several orders of magnitude happier than the earlier ones.

Matt leans back a little, searching her eyes with his. "we could each get one..."

"'s true," Bernie replies quietly, meeting his gaze and returning it, "that'd work..."

Matt grins mischeivously, completing a thought. "You could leave yers on vibrate," He says, kissing her quickly and fiercely. "Oi'll call as often as Oi can..."

Bernie's eyes widen and she turns quite pink again as she parses that, and dissolves into giggles, which don't stop until she occupies her mouth by kissing him again, just as fiercely and rather less quickly. As she pulls away, she remarks, "Well... I guess that'd be one way t' reach out an' touch someone, huh?"

Matt smiles, reponding to the kiss. He puts a hand on her hip to steady himself, slipping his fingertips under the edge of her t-shirt to rest against her skin. "Aye. Wouldn't want ye ta fink Oi'd ferget ye."

"...again," she teases, with a quick grin, and slips up onto her knees, to wriggles out of the sleeping bag, which falls right off the cushions and onto the floor before she resettles herself. She is, in fact, wearing the sweatpants as well, as expected.

Matt rolls his eyes, nodding his head sheepishly. "Aye...again." He takes her in his arms and gives her a fierce hug. "So...we 'ave 'ouseguests tonight."

Bernie hugs back tightly, changing position to snuggle up as closely to him as she can manage, and resting her head on his shoulder, breath flowing warmly against his neck as she speaks. "Mmmhmm. Th' whole pack, for homemade pizza, right? An' I think I'll make choc'late cake, an' we c'n have it for dessert with ice cream an' whipped cream an' choc'late syrup..." Her fingertips dance across his other shoulder before she slides the arm back into the hug.

Matt laughs a little, snuggling and wrapping his arms around her. "/You/ joost want an' excuse ta buy ice cream, an' chocolate sauce..." he says, trailing a finger from her chin, across one breast and to her belly button.

Bernie giggles, and leans up, kissing him gently just below the ear. "Well," she protests not very hard, "not =just=...." The blush hasn't completely faded yet, but at least is isn't flaring up again.

"Aye, but you're goin' ta buy more than we'll need fer one cake, Oi'll wager." He shares her laugh, sighing at the kiss.

"Only 'f y'promise t' help me use 'em up..." The kiss is reprised, followed by several of its fellows, marching softly down the side of his neck.

Matt stretches as he's kissed, straightening a little. "...Oi fink that's a plan, Books." He curls the fingers of one hand in her hair, tightly for a second, then releases.

Bernie nuzzles against the Fianna's neck, murmuring, "Good...." There's a soft, tentative nibble there before she asks, "...so's there a lot that oughta be done t'day b'fore th' dinner? When'll they be arrivin', anyhow?"

Matt glances down. "Well, not mooch ta clean up, any road, so no, but we might go fer th' grocer's, an' Oi tol' Tens ta show up aroun' nine, an' ta pass it on, since Oi 'aven't seen Max, Nevada or Littl' Tim in a whoile."

Bernie nods a little, considering. "...an' it'll take a while t' cook... so prolly, 'bout'n hour t' shop, an' 'bout... say two hours, t'make th' food. So I guess we got from now t' 'bout sixish free, yeah?" She lifts her head, leaning slightly away to look at him, a mischevious little smile trying to take over her lips.

Matt chews his lower lip. "Seems that way..." His eyes twinkle. "We should probably 'ave a David Gower as well, but that can wait."

The little smile expands to a grin, and she nods. "Yeah, that too... so..." she tilts her head a bit, giving him a rather flirtatious look, and asks in shy but hopeful tones, "...whatcha think we oughta do in th' meantime?"

Matt grins, reaching for her. "Well, we could get a paper..." He kisses her neck, "...work the crosswords..." The hand slide back around her waist, holding her into a deep kiss.

Bernie returns the kiss passionately, practically ending up in Matt's lap. In fact, when she finally pulls away from it, she moves there literally, a knee on either side of his legs on the sofa, carefully sitting on his thighs and trying not to crush them. "...could do that," she allows a touch breathlessly, "I'm really kickass at crossword puzzles. Wordsearches, too..." Leaning in, she kisses him again.

Matt pulls her down on top of him, sliding his hands underneath her shirt. His mouth never leaves hers, nor do his eyes. Finally he breaks the kiss, to breathe. "Wordsearches. Like findin' fings?"

Bernie nods, wordlessly as first, as she takes in some more oxygen. "Mmmhmm," she says then, "where they have th' big squarea letters, an' you gotta find diff'rent words in there, horizontal, vertical, diagonal, backwards... allat. Y'know..." Another kiss, or several; quick, light brushes of their lips.

Matt curls them both onto their sides, himself to the edge of the couch. "So you're ah..." another kiss, "good at those, hmm? Never 'ave been, me."

"'s a knack," Bernie replies, punctuating it with another fairly extended and enthusiastic kiss. "...always been good with words. 'least, in nin'y, nin'y-five percenta situations, I guess..." She curls her head down to attack his throat and the side of his neck with kisses and nibbles again, before picking one particular spot to nip at again, and suckle at, creating a satisfying little mark.

Matt raises up. "Whot th' ! Books!" His frown is sudden, and deep.

Bernie flushes deeply, pulling away and looking startled but contrite at the reaction. "...sorry," she says softly, eyes downcast.

Matt's face damps down quickly from an original flush of anger, through disappointment to bewilderment. "'S'okay, Oi s'pose. Done an' done, anyway. Joost..." he winces, rubbing the hickey. "'m a /philodox/. Not s'posed ta let myself feel th' way Oi do 'bout you." He glances at her, then away, at a spot near the door. "Not s'posed ta /do/ anyfin' about it, anyway. Certainly not supposed ta wear proof aroun' my bloody neck." He takes her by the shoulders and looks her in the eye. "No 'ickeys, roight? Please?"

Bernie looks down again, seeming penitent, and nods a little. A thought strikes her, and she glances up over the top of her glasses, "...it'll go 'way 'f y'shift, though, won't it?" A slight pause. "...but I won't..." She stays very pink.

Matt blinks. "yeah...oughta. 'adn't fought of that." He smiles. "So, Oi guess you shower first, then, while Oi, um. 'Heal.'" He shifts up to Glabro and scoops her up off the couch, carrying her into the bathroom.

Bernie squeaks as she's lifted, arms going tightly around his neck before she can rationally think that she's unlikely to be dropped, and relax a bit. She smiles back at him, still looking a bit sheepish, and ducks her head completely unnecessarily down against him as they head through the door to the bathroom. It's hard to judge spaces like doorways when you're carried through them.

Matt sets her down giving her another, toothier kiss. "In ye go," he growls. "Don't use all the hot water, eh?"