Matt wakes Bernie eeeaarrly in the morning, before the sun is even up. He's apparently snuck out of bed and taken a shower, and made coffee, a cup of which he sets next to the bed for Bernie. "Up an' away, Thunderbirds!" he murmers near her ear. "Oi made you some coffee, Books. The shower's waitin'."

"...nuh?" Bernie queries eloquently, turning toward the voice as her eyes reluctantly crack open. A slow, tired smile spreads across her face as she sees Matt, and she adds more intelligibly, "...hi," before it's cut off by a large yawn. With a minimum of struggle, she sits up, then, and hunts the coffee. It must be nearby. She can smell it.

Matt takes her hands gently and moves them onto the cup. Then he hands her her glasses from the nightstand. "Oi'm makin' breakfast. Burritos alroight wif you?"

Bernie slides the glasses on with one hand, giving Matt a grateful smile, and sips her coffee appreciatively before answering. "Mm. Sure. 's fine with me. Everythin' you make always kicks anyhow." Her brow furrows slightly as she thinks about something. "...I missed somethin' important back there a minute ago. When I was wakin' up. What was it?" Another sip jogs her memory, "Shower! Right. ...what time is it?"

Matt shrugs over his shoulder. "Around four, Oi fink." He moves on into the kitchen, from whence the sounds of cooking soon emanate. Sizzles and the smell of cooking eggs and beef waft toward the bedroom.

Behind him, Bernie winces. "That's inhumane," she protests accusingly, but not too intensely. She finishes her coffee, and pads after, setting her cup down in the kitchen before she heads to take that shower.

Matt snorts loudly enough to be heard. "Oi'll make it up to you wif Jim. Now get in th' shower, so we can be On The Road." The capitals are audible.

Bernie grins, as she disappears through the doorway. "I'm gettin', keep your shirt on. ...well, a'ight, I s'pose you don't =hafta= 'f you don't wanna," she replies before the door shuts, quite quickly beginning to billow steam.

Matt waits, and has a plate of breakfast burritos waiting when she finishes. Egg, ground beef, salsa and cheese wrapped in a tortilla. three of 'em. He leaves the plate next to her coffee, munching on one himself.

Bernie emerges, wrapped as ineffectually as usual in one of the towels. She's managed to dry her hair enough that it isn't dripping, today. "...looks good. Mmph. Y'know, when you said we'd leave this mornin'? I was thinkin', nine, tennish..." She picks up a burrito, eying it a moment before biting in. "...mmm. Thanks."

It's a good burrito. And the spicy salsa is a bit of a wake-up call. "Oi wanted ta be down the road a bit. Besides, doan't ye wanta see th' dawn from th' top of a mountain?"

Bernie nods, gesturing with her breakfast and splashing some salsa. Luckily, it lands on the counter, beside the plate. "Well, when you put it =that= way..." She wipes up the salsa bit and stretches, finishing off her food. "We oughta hurry. Not quite sure how far away th' nearest mountain top is."

Matt shrugs. "Oi doan't know, 'bout an hour, maybe? So ye've got a few minutes ta finish packin.'" He smiles, and leans over to kiss her. "Gonna be fun."

Bernie kisses back, abandoning her grip on the makeshift fastening of the towel to give him a quick, excited hug. The towel remains precariously in place as she pulls back and returns the smile. "Def'nitely. An' I'm pretty much packed as it is, so a few minutes'll do..."

Matt nods. "Excellent. Point at th' ruck and Oi'll hang it across from mine on th' Lambretta."

A hand steadies the towel as the girl nods, and she bounces back toward the bedroom to dress and grab her things. It doesn't take very long before she's back, suitably clothed, her ever-present backpack bulging at the seams. Not so good at packing light, it seems. "Do we want onea th' sleeping bags, y'think?" she muses.

Matt nods. "Got one. Big one, too."His smile is lewd. "Big enough ta share, anyway."On that note he heads for the door, glancing over to the stove to reassure himself everything is turned off. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he stalks over to the counter top and pockets his cell phone charger. "Never know when we'll need this."

Bernie grins a little crookedly and follows, bag slung over her shoulder. "I left mine with th' Kaz last night, like we planned, so we got that bit handled..." She scans the places out of habit as she opens the front door, and spots nothing that screams out to be handled.

The flat is quiet and well-behaved. Matt locks the door and leads the way down to the scooter. The morning is crisp, dew glistening on windows and garbage can lids. The sky is beginning to grow blue in the east, indicating an impending dawn. The Lambretta is loaded down, leaning a bit heavily over the back wheel, a set of saddlebags resting on the wheel housing. As promised, a bedroll is strapped onto the back. One of the saddlebags is open, and Bernie's pack fits almost neatly within it.

Bernie resists the urge to try and shove it completely inside, leaving the loading up to Matt as she turns to survey the early morning city, then laughs. "Last time I was up an' out this early," she remarks in the odd hushed tones dawn often seems to bring out in people, "Kaz took me t' th' other side an' I got th' first tentacle through my leg. One thing this trip, no tentacles, a'ight?"

Matt lifts up the seat to get out their helmets, handing Bernie's over. "We're goin' ta Los Angeles, Books. No promises." He smiles, broadly.

Bernie takes the helmet, giggling, and steals another kiss before the helmets -- and the traveling -- make that an impossibility. She pulls her still-damp curls into a ponytail, fastens the helmet, and slides onto the scooter behind Matt once he's in place. It's more difficult than usual, with the current load.

Matt returns the kiss, still smiling, then slips on his own helmet and climbs on. The Lambretta is sluggish under the load, and handles like a cow, but before too long they are on I-90 headed west. At approximately six thirty, they are high in the Cascades, and as promised, he pulls the scooter over, so they can watch the sun rise over the mountains.

Bernie removes her helmet for the occasion, but doesn't dismount, putting her arms back around Matt's waist, helmet in hand, and leaning against him. She rests her chin on his shoulder, quietly watching the sky change colours as the rays of light pierce through the lingering night.

Matt also watches the sunrise in silence, reaffirming his commitment to his people and his cause. He puts one hand over hers, leaning back a little, into her.

Bernie gives a little squeeze, and sighs softly and contentedly as the sun moves up distinctly above the horizon. "'s beautiful," she murmurs, finally. "Worth four a.m." The smile broadens, briefly.

Matt nods, minutely. "Fought ye might fink so. We'll want ta bed down pretty early anyway, so we can do it again tamorra. Oi've got a place picked out on th' Pacific Coast 'ighway, assumin' we make good time."

"T' sleep an' wake up t' watch it, there, or t' have already got up an' driven a bit?" Bernie queries, as she faces the fact that the sun has now quite thoroughly dawned, and releases the Fianna long enough to put her helmet back on.

"Oi should say when we're a bit down the road," Matt replies. "As 'ard as it is ta wake ye sometimes..."

"You're creative," Bernie retorts as she gets properly settled in again, "...I'm sure you c'n thinka somethin' effective should th' need arise." Thinking about the time draws a yawn, which she stifles as best she can.

Matt nods his head, accepting the compliment at face value. "Fanks. Oi'd like ta make about five hundred kilometer today, but there's an exit a dozen or so down wif several places ta get some lunch."

[...later...]

The highway wends westward, threading through the Cascades over high bridges and steep valleys, all lined with tall, old-growth trees, many in full spring plumage. Shortly after they hit the state line of Oregon, Matt pulls over, for gas, food and to stretch their legs.

Bernie dismounts with a little awkward stiffness, unavoidable after riding that way for hours. She removes her helmet and sets it on the scooter before she stretches, pushing her hands over her head and arching her back, touching her toes once, and then just walking around a little, looking at things -- plants, trees, a bug of some description. "Mmph. We maybe oughta stop an' stretch a li'l more often, I think... gonna get there bowlegged."

Matt smirks. "Anorak. Ye'll get used to it. We've only got eighteen hours or so ta go..." After pumping gas, he steps into the gas station to pay, and returns with a couple sandwiches. Passing one to Bernie, he heads for the concrete table and little square of grass, a rest area for travelers. Plopping heavily on the bench, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

Bernie sticks her tongue out at Matt, and leans against the Lambretta as he pumps the gas. The sandwich does not, apparently come amiss, and she scoots in beside him at the table to unwrap it. "...I act'ly packed a few snacks," she remarks, "...but 'course they're buried somewhere in th' bag in th' =other= bag... thanks."

Matt smiles, exhaling smoke and relaxing. "Yer welcome. We'll stop again down the road a bit. Sure an' Oi'll need ta take a piss in a while anyroad." He stretches his legs, bending them at the knees to work the kinks out.

Bernie gives the gas station a somewhat dubious look. "...I prolly oughta look inta that too, act'ly. Though I'm not sure a gas sation bathroom beats th' woods..." She tints vaguely pink as she listens to herself, and shuts herself up with a bite of sandwich. "...anyway," she adds, mouth partly full, "we gotta stop an' see things."

Matt nods. "Oi was sort of plannin' on seein' the Redwoods..." He looks over to Bernie, realizing all of a sudden that he's never actually talked about the itinerary with her. He smiles, sheepishly.

Bernie nods, not seeming to mind. "I had that on th' list too. 'spect we c'n hit everythin' we want, they prolly overlap a decent amount, y'know? Where else d'you wanna go?" She polishes off the sandwich, and wrinkles her nose a little. "Good sammich, but I =gotta= get somethin' t' drink, now. Y'want anythin'?"

Matt nods. "Oi, yer roight, Oi didn't fink o' that. Must be a bit daft from th' road. Here." He pulls a ten out of his pocket and offers it to her. "Coke, please."

"Coke it shall be," Bernie declares, plucking the bill from Matt's hand as she rises, and leaning over to kiss him briefly while the cigarette is safely out of the way. She grins, and trots back toward the station, on her mission.

Matt relaxes, enjoying the break. He finishes the cigarette, then checks out the Lambretta, cleaning the windshield.

Bernie returns, proudly bearing two quite large cokes, one in each hand. She hefts them triumphantly, like trophies, as she carries them over and presents one with all due fanfare. "Your beverage, m'sieur..." Grinning, she slips in beside him again, and pulls a pack of M&Ms from her pocket, setting them on the table. "Dessert," she explains.

Matt bows, from his seat. "Danke, mine bischen." He nods towards the M&Ms. "Excellent. Oi'll bet there isn't any change, then, is there." His tone indicates that he doesn't seriously expect any.

"Nah, I tipped th' doorman," Bernie replies airily, before grinning and actually producing the change, offering it over in a cupped hand. "Here. So, German, not onea my languages... whassa bischen?"

Matt blushes a little. "Means 'a little bit.' Term of endearment an all."

Bernie smiles a little, noticing the blush, and glances sidelong at him as she takes a sip of her soda. "Tha's a'ight, then," she comments a little teasingly. "You have my full permission t' endear me whenever you want."

In his turn, Matt grins. "Well, then. Guess Oi better go get th' keys to th' restroom--for privacy."

Bernie laughs and gains a hint of pink herself as she glances sideways at him again. "I dunno... all for privacy, but most station bathrooms are kina skanky. 'less it's a really nice one, 'spect we could find nicer scenery."

Matt continues to tease. "we've got a blanket in there. Oi could stop in an hour or so...side o' th' road.... Nice wooded glade..."

Bernie giggles, and her eyes drift consideringly toward the more wild area behind them, farther from the road and the station. "Well, hey. We're not in any huge hurry, right? S'pose we could tour any promisin' glades we happened t' run across..."

Matt smiles. "Joost tap me on th' shoulder, hmm?" He downs almost all of the coke before standing. "Now Oi do 'aveta go. Ready ta get back to it in a minute?"

"Deal," Bernie replies, "...an' yeah. Jus' 'bout set." She sips the rest of her soda slowly as she watches him head away, guaranteeing she'll have to make the same trip soon enough.

Matt takes care of business, and when Bernie is also ready for the road, they head out again. Late in the afternoon, they reach Redwood National Forest, one of Matt's planned destinations. "'s a bit out o' th' way," he apologizes over his shoulder, "But Oi wanted ta see it."

Bernie is, at first, too busy taking in the hugeness of the approaching flora too reply. When she does, it's still a tad distracted, "...don't 'pologise, I wan'ed t' see 'em too. I mean, 's one thing t' know somethin's huge from books an' shit, 'nother t' see it..."

Matt finds a parking area, and dismounts, nodding toward the trail indicators next to the visitor's center.

Bernie follows, stretching her legs a bit and then trotting along to catch up. When she does, she reaches over in search of a hand. "Think everything'll be a'ight left there?" she asks.

Matt takes her hands, squeezing it briefly and gently. "Better be, so Oi doan't 'aveta flip out an' kill someone."

Bernie grins a little. "That'd be inconvenient, yeah," she remarks dryly, squeezing back, and then letting the hands dangle and swing gently between them. She couts disaster by tilting her head up and back to look at the nearest trees, and not watching the path ahead of her.

Fortunately, Matt is paying attention to the path. At one point, however, he leaves it, tugging her off the cedar-chipped tourist highway, and into the deep woods. He finds a small clearing and lays down on his back, looking up at the massive trees surrounding them. "Wow," he says.

"Wow," Bernie agrees, joining him on the forest floor and staring up at the massively high canopy. "...I feel small."

"...and young," Matt adds. "Somea these trees are whot, a coupla tons roight?"

Bernie grins a little. "Yeah. Small an' young. An' kina impermanent... An' yeah... at =least=. Prolly more'n that. I mean, trucks weigh a few tons, right? An' these are way bigger..."

Matt chuckles. "A ton is a hundred, Books. A ton, a century, a day's work.... Not disagreein' wif ye though. They probably do..."

Bernie thbbts. "Don't be ambiguous! Dammit, man, speak English!" She turns her head to grin at him with that particular teasing, and then looks back to the trees. "Half wanna climb one, but I think you'd need, like, a rock climbin' kit or somethin'."

Matt looks back incredulously. "Oh, no you didn't joost. Oi speak better English that any of you septics. An oi doan't wanta learn /American./" Distracted by her climbing comment, he considers it. "Five meters o' rope, at least...."

Bernie thinks about that, and nods. "An' sadly, I don' walk 'round carryin' huge lengthsa rope..."

Matt says "'m surprised. Twenty meters rope, ten foot pole, pitons, iron rations. Isn't that standard equipment?"

Bernie giggles. "Yeah, well, 'pparently my GM's hella stingy. All I got's some M&Ms an' an elastic hairband.... which I don' think'll stretch far 'nough."

Matt furrows his brow. "GM. GM... game master?" He lifts her head briefly to let the blood flow back into his arm, and shifts, then returns the arm beneath her.

Bernie nods, getting comfortable again. "Mmhmm. 'zactly." She wraps an arm lightly across him, so it rests on the thigh further from her, and watches the sun filter through the branches above them.

The route Matt has chosen is a scenic one, along Highway 97 through the mountains. They pass several scenic lakes, and Matt stops more frequently. In the late afternoon, when his stomach begins grumbling, Matt pulls over and gets off, rummaging in the saddlebags for snacks. "A few more hours drivin' an' Oi figured we'd stop ta bo peep." He unfolds a map and shows it to Bernie. "Rouge River National Forest is roight 'ere off th' 'ighway. Sure an' we couldn't spend the night in th' wolf, there. Prolly feed ourselves, too."

Bernie takes the map and eyes it, nodding a bit. "Also there's a campground jus' over there," she remarks, poking a small area with a fingertip, "so, multiple options, yeah?" She scans the map again, then attempt to fold it back up. Like all maps, it resists as best it can, forcing her to fight with it for a bit.

Matt nods, leaning over after she beats the map into submission to give her a quick kiss, for the hell of it, apparently. "Aye. Takin' the wolf might make the Lambretta seem awfully temptin', now that ye mention it."

Bernie returns the kiss happily, triumphant over the stubborn paper, and returns the map, nodding. "Came t' mind, yeah. But, we'll hafta see what it's like, right? Either way we oughta be able t' work somethin' out." She looks out over the nearby lake, and grins, shaking her head. "'s all clear like that, almost makes me wanna swim."

Matt looks around, exaggerating it. "Oi doan't see anybody. Go for it, if ye like. Or, Oi'll bet there's a lake in th' park, an' we could swim by moonlight."

Bernie laughs, looking around herself. "I like that idea, th' moonlight one. Only, I di'n' pack a suit or towel or anythin'. But prolly that could be worked 'round..." She takes advantage of the pause in travelling to stretch her legs a bit, gazing out over the water again.

Matt says "Only suit Oi packed was th' one Oi was born in, so... Oi guess we wait." He rummages, coming up with some lunchmeat and a slightly squished loaf of french bread. "Sandwich?"

Bernie leans half sitting against the scooter's seat again, and brightens. "Yes please! Wanna hand with anythin'?"

Matt shakes his head. "Ye could find a bottle o' water in there, though." He makes sandwiches and they have a light lunch. Then back on the road. A little after sundown, by the single headlight of the Lambretta, they wind their way into Crater Lake National Park. The park is closed, but Bernie's gift with locks makes quick work of the chain barrier on one of the access roads, and soon they turn a corner in the road to see Crater Lake below, a perfect circle reflecting the nearly perfect circle of the moon. The trees between are thin lines, casting barred shadows across the view. "Fookin' beautiful, that is," Matt whispers.

Bernie nods wordlessly in agreement before realising that the gesture doesn't work as well when she's seated behind him. "Damn straight," she whispers, instead, most of her attention on taking in the scene, filing it away in her memory.

Matt parks the Lambretta a ways away from the lake and the visitor's center, seeming glad they didn't get in the front gate. He waits for Bernie to slide off as well, and stashes their helmets. "Ready fer that swim?" He asks, a mischievous grin on his face.

Bernie stares at him a moment, then the lake, and slowly grins herself. She glances sidelong at him for another couple seconds, as if trying to decide if he's serious. "...A'ight," she agrees, then, "let's swim."

Matt darts away, scrambling down the (very) steep incline, more sliding than running through teh trees until he reaches the shore, a second or so ahead of Bernie. He begins, unabashedly, to strip, starting with his jacket and shirt.

Bernie laughs and follows as fast as she can, almost falling twice as she slips down particularly steep portions. She doesn't disrobe at the same time -- getting down there in one piece is enough to handle at once. Once she reaches flatter land, though, she pulls her jacket off and lies it across a reasonably large rock as she gets started.

Matt puts everything in a not-so-neat pile: jacket, shirt, shoes and socks, then pants. He glances sidelong at Bernie, watching her undress as well. The boxers go too, and he leaps into the icy water of the lake, pale and unclothed.

Bernie's pile is a bit neater, but much the same, and once everything's stacked on the rock, she heads into the water too, yelping and bursting into laughter again at the temperature. She dives down, gliding toward him, and comes up dripping, curls weighed down straight by the water. "'s better," she declares, keeping herself immersed up to her shoulders, "...warmer, this way. You oughta get wet too." So saying, an arm sweeps back and then forward, sending an icy wave toward the Fianna.

Matt ducks under it, disappearing beneath the dark water of this famous, and very deep, lake. The reflection of the moon on the water makes it impossible to see anything beneath the surface, until Matt's hand grabs Bernie by the leg, yanking her under.

The startled squeak is cut off by a gasp for air a split second before Bernie disappears beneath the water again as well. She uses the hand on her leg for a bit of leverage as she pushes forward and down to try and grab Matt in retaliation.

Matt doesn't really defend himself, grabbing and being grabbed as they both rise to the surface. In fact, as they break into the air, he's al twined around her, pressing their bodies together, two relative warm spots in the icy lake. At some point after that, he recalls that they are two /naked/ warm spots in the icy lake, and in the moonlight, he blushes.

Bernie gulps air as she breaks the surface, arms ending up as tightly about him as they can without drowning either or both of them, and laughs again, joyfully, trailing off as she kisses him. For once, she actually doesn't seem to be blushing, though it's hard to be positive in the light available.

Matt kisses back, sparing a little thought to treading water. "Awright-t-t," he stammers. "Didn't-t fink it'd b-be quite this c-cold."

Bernie giggles at that as well, seemingly a bit more resistant to the cold water, though she's unable to hide that she's shivering a little. Of course, she's better padded to withstand it. She treads water casually, freeing one arm to help keep her afloat. "Wimp," she teases, grinning, "'s not =that= chilly. 's gotta be 'least ten degrees 'bove freezin'..."

Matt nods, splashing a bit. "'Snot so bad, now. Or maybe Oi'm just gettin' numb. Stay in too long and me three card'll freeze off."

"Well," Bernie replies solemnly, "can't have =that=. So maybe we oughta consider gettin' out soon after all." She grins again, "'less you wanna risk my skill with krazy glue."

Matt raises an eyebrow, and pushes his hair out of his eyes. "M-mebbe ye'll joost 'ave ta see what ye can do ta keep it warm...."

Bernie's cheeks seem to pinken briefly as she eases in a little closer again. "Well, y'know. Anythin' t' prevent you freezin' t' death or dismemberment." Her teeth chatter once or twice before she presses them together to still them, resulting in a slightly mischievous small closed smile.

Matt does, finally make for shore, pulling himself out a few feet from his clothes. He's pale, wet and wrinkled from his time in the water, but all the parts seem to be intact.

Bernie floats a little longer, watching, before she follows suit, swimming back to the shore with a strong stroke. Partly to warm up. She clambers out and regards her clothing, blinking once. "...=now= I wish I hadda towel," she comments, teeth chattering a bit. "Don' wanna soak my clothes..."

Matt smiles. "Show ye a sneaky trick Oi learned from th' Righ." He shifts, briefly, up into crinos, then back to homid, dry. "Water doesn't stay wif you when ye shift."

Bernie grins, and does the same, admiring a no longer dripping arm as she melts back down again. "Hey... cool! Damn, I jus' learn handier an' handier tricks with that..." It occurs to her that even dry, it's a bit chilly, and she steps over to start with the underthings from her pile.

Matt also returns to his clothes, picking his boxers out and stepping back into them.

Bernie slides into her outfit again, and then sits on the rock, looking back up the slope. "So where d'ya wanna sleep?" she queries, "...somewhere just off th' path, 'round here?"

Matt nods. "Sounds good. Close ta th' lake, Oi fink. Sound of th' waves, an' all that. Good fing th' scooter's off th' beaten path." He finishes dressing as well, moving next to Bernie. "Look, Books," he points. There is a circle of stones not far from the water, surrounding ashes and charred bits of wood. "fire circle."

"Hey, cool," Bernie exclaims, "...makes me wish we had some hot dogs an' marshmallows. Guess we're not th' only people to've spent time right here... shall we stay by it? Fits th' requirements a'ight...."

Matt nods, adding that "We can claim ta 'ave come in too late ta pay ta camp, if the rangers roust us tomorrow. Ye wanta look fer firewood, or haul the packs down from the scooter?"

Bernie glances up toward the scooter, then around at her surroundings. "Firewood," she decides, "...shouldn' be too hard t' get a fire goin', what with havin' lighters an' paper t' start it. I'll see what I c'n hunt down that'll burn more substantially."

Matt sighs. "Figured ye'd say that." He leans forward to kiss her, then begins trudging, or more accurately, climbing, back up the steep slope. "Back in a tic."

Bernie smiles as the kiss breaks, and watches him climb away for a moment or two before she gets to work, picking her way through the rocks and such to where there seem to be promising flora.

Matt returns, about fifteen minutes later, with the saddlebags over his shoulder, as well as the sleeping bag. He clears a space near the fire pit, thankful for the clear night and full moon to work by, then unrolls the sleeping bag. It's large enough for two, if they're friendly.

There's a cracking noise from off in a stand of trees, and one short, muffled curse, then quietness again. Before there's time to worry, really, Bernie emerges, laden with a good number of midsized twigs and several decent little logs, bits of fallen branches. She's limping slightly, and looks annoyed, though that fades into a smile as she nears. "Ta da. I bring you wood."

Matt smiles, replying "...an Oi bring ye a bed!" He sets to building a framework for the fire, filling it in with the sticks and kindling twigs. Finally, he takes out his zippo and catches the tinder. A few minutes later, there is warmth and light from the fire.

Bernie helps a bit at first, but then steps back out of the way, and sits on the sleeping bag, pulling her knees loosely up to her chest, arms resting about them. She claps as the flames begin to rise, and grins. "Bravo! A bed =and= a fire! I am overwhelmed by your might," she teases fondly, and stifles a yawn. Unfolding again, she undoes her boots, opens the sleeping bag, and pauses, debating how much of her clothing to take back off.

Matt gives her a worn smile. "Da an' me went campin' in Wales a lot." A sad look passes over his face. "Oi've wondered in th' past year or so if 'e didn't know more than 'e was tellin' me." He pulls his boots off and slides into the bag, clothes and all. Clean ones tomorrow.

The jacket goes, and, in a neat little bit of contortion, the bra, but not the shirt. Underwires are not conducive to comfortable rest. Those set neatly aside, Bernie slips in too, with a little wriggle to squeeze into the space, and gives him a tight, quiet hug, unsure of anything better to do or say. Out of habit, she quickly ends up curled against him in the usual way, despite the lack of room.

The sleeping bag doesn't quite zip up all the way this way, but close to the low fire, the couple are not cold. Matt's even managed to find some pine needles and leaves to lay the sleeping bag on, so it's not much different from the old days, before there was a Bed in Bohemian Decadence. With a wan smile and a kiss, Matt bids Bernie good night, and drifts off, resting for another long day of driving.

Bernie returns the kiss softly, and remains quietly awake for a while, listening to the sound of the water, the wind in the pines, the few animals that pipe up periodically, and the rhythm of Matt's breath and sometimes heartbeat. Soon enough the noises combine with the day's exertions, and she gradually drifts off to sleep as well.