Bernie is in the kitchen, her brow furrowed, rummaging through one the drawers, which she slams shut before opening the next, and starting in on it. She mutters something dark to herself, glowering into the mess of utensils.

Matt seems bemused, and perhaps a little flushed, as he slips into the kitchen. He pauses, perhaps as much surprised Bernie is here as she might be that he's out here as well.

Bernie glances up at the sound of the door, serious annoyance and some worry clear on her face. It gains an overlay of surprise, and then the corner of her mouth quirks up. "We've got t' stop meetin' like this," she greets him, dryly, "what =will= people say?"

Matt glances toward the drawer of utensils, source of annoyance. "They'll say, 'Oi! You're city folk. What ch'oo doin' way out 'ere, then.' An' Oi'll say, 'You should look in th' barn.'"

Bernie pauses, blinks, and arches an eyebrow, curiosity displacing most of her general annoyance. "...wha's in th' barn, then?" she asks, "...city folk, or what you're doin' out here?"

Matt snorts, drawing close to Bernie and hooking a finger in a beltloop of her jeans. "Nuffin' so excitin'. Oi'd caught a nap in lupus, an' woke up wif Cameron an' Summer in th' barn below. Bit of an awkward moment, Oi s'pose, bein' 'is elder an' all. Judgin' by me nose, they were, well, they were...ah..." He trails off, smiling but unable to make eye contact. He scratched the back of his head, sheepishly.

Another slight pause, as Bernie follows the train of thought to the logical conclusion, and giggles once, blushing slightly. "Oh. ....'busy'." A thought strikes her, and she ducks her head a little. "Think I'm extra glad Yi di'n' wake up, now," she murmurs, grinning at bit at the floor, and runs a hand through her curls before peeking at him again.

Matt pulls himself a little closer and just looks at her, smiling, perhaps as if memorizing.

Bernie returns the gaze, almost sidelong, with her head still tilted, before glancings back toward the ground, hand resting lazily in the currently forgotten drawer. "...'s almost too bad th' barn's so crowded," she comments quietly, and peeks at him again.

Matt sketches a shrug. "Depends entirely on your definition o' crowded, Oi suppose. An' Summer's..." A quick leer. Then he's peering into the drawer. "Lookin' for a good stabbin' weapon, Miz Borden?"

Bernie arches an eyebrow, lifting her chin a bit. "D'pends 'f you're gonna keep leerin' over pretty Fianna kin at me," she retorts, before glancing into the drawer, sighing, and slamming it shut. "Forgot I had a book in that groc'ry bag when I handed it t' Tobin, yesterday, an' I can' find where he put it. An' yeah I =know= th' drawers are unlikely, but I looked th' likely places already." A reasonable portion of the annoyance has returned, from either or both topics of complaint, it's hard to tell.

"Which book?" Matt asks, glossing over the other for now. "Did you look in th' icebox?" He curls around, back to the counter, but doesn't relinquish the finger looped in her belt.

Bernie, for her part, doesn't pull away enough to unseat that finger, but neither does she move closer as she leans against the counter by the now-closed drawer herself, sideways. "Th' Analytical Engine," she replies, "...I was almost done with it. An', actually, yeah. There an' th' fridge were th' first weird places I looked. Then th' pantry. ...prolly he's got it in his stuff or somethin', t' give back when he sees me, I'm not snoopin' there, but."

Matt nods. "Well, we'll get it back when we lay minces on 'im next, an' beat th' stuffin' out of 'im if 'e doesn't 'ave it, neh? Privilege of rank. Respect fer an' elder does include not makin' off wif 'er fings, eh?" He grins at her, a little suggestively, and attempts to tug her closer.

Bernie nods a bit. "'s true...." she says, slowly, resisting the tug a bit more than usual, which is to say, at all. Even so, she does let herself be moved an inch or two. "S'pose I'll live 'f I don't finish it for a couple days yet."

Matt nods, his mouth forming a thoughtful moue. "We /could/ go back ta th' Decadence an'...not read..."

Bernie can't help it; jealous or not, she's amused. The earlier smile half returns. "We could," she agrees, trying to be noncommittal, "...I mean, we could... wash the dishes. Or play parcheesi." The rest of the smile lurks mischievously around the edges of her mouth.

Matt deflates considerably. "Aye...Oi suppose..."

Bernie fails to maintain the attempted detachment, and giggles, stepping in a little closer. "...or, y'know," she adds more flirtatiously, "possibly we could think of somethin' else t'do, instead. 'm open t' suggestions. Wanna go see what we c'n come up with?"

Matt ventures a sly smile and a nod. "We could drink, an' order pizza," he offers, sweeping her out the back door toward the Lambretta.

[Bohemian Decadence]

Matt opens the door, and heads straight for the bathroom. Never did go right after waking up...

Bernie glances over her shoulder toward where they left the Lambretta, though she can't see it, as she follows inside. "Mm... 's still a nice way t' travel," she remarks to no one in particular, and closes the door behind them, flicking the locks into place. Her backpack falls into its usual spot beside the couch, her jacket atop it, and she drops into her couch corner to undo her boots.

Matt returns from the bathroom momentarily, and also kicks off his boots.

It's not so much kick as half-unlace and carefully set aside, but the effect =is= much the same. Feet suitably bare, Bernie stands again, and wanders toward the kitchen. "...lessee," she muses, tapping her fingers on the fridge handle, "Seem t' recall 'drink' bein' in th' itinerary... preferences?"

Matt follows his boots with his shirt, tossing it casually on the back of the sofa. His scars are red, or he's pale in the rather cool apartment. "None, though ye might bring it inta th' bedroom..."

Bernie watches for several seconds before reaching up to snag a couple of the Guinness and following him across the apartment, swinging her arms lightly as she dangles one of the bottles in each hand. At least if they get neglected, they won't get too warm to drink. "S'pose that could work. Tired?" she asks, teasing.

"Not particularly, no," the Fianna replies. "You?" He asks, flopping on the bed. His eyes catch hers, and he smiles.

"....not particularly," Bernie echoes from the doorway, and returns the smile, briefly shy. Straightening from where she was leaning against the jamb, she wanders to the bed and drops onto it beside Matt, close enough to nudge him with a shoulder, despite the vast amount of as yet unoccupied space. "Scootch over," she demands, facetiously.

Matt takes the beers and sets them on the nightstand, reaching over his head in the process. Then he pulls her down on top of him. "No need," he says, surprising her with a kiss.

Bernie's giggle is cut off quite short as she returns the kiss enthusiastically. Breaking off, she grins down at him, and decides a little breathlessly, "...that'll do too."

Matt obviously hopes so, because he does it again, then shifts a little to plant little kisses on her throat. "So...you weren't, by any chance, /jealous/...back there at the farm'ouse?"

"No, 'course not," Bernie replies promptly, if a little absently, eyes half-closing, "Should I be? I mean, jus' 'cause she's kin an' specifically Fianna kin an' pretty an' nice an' you were leering 'bout her an' all right, yeah, maybe a little..." She cuts off the rambling sentence, looking somewhat sheepish.

Matt rolls his eyes. "Oi was leering at /you/, Dodo." He kisses her again, sliding his hands down her body to rest at the small of her back.

Bernie sniffs. "Context was unclear, then," she manages haughtily, before the sheepish little grin takes over again, accompanied by a small blush, and she snuggles down against him a bit more. "'s all right, then, that case. You've my full permission t' leer at me."

Matt leers at her. And waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Bernie dissolves in giggles, and nips at the side of his neck in retaliation... not, despite temptation, enough to leave a mark; the order not to is remembered.

Matt rolls her over, into the aforementioned expanse of unused bed, taking the opportunity to slip a hand under her shirt. His palm is warm, the skin smooth.

Bernie slips an arm around his shoulder, catching the base of his head in her palm and pulling him closer as she leans up to kiss him again, quite passionately and in no hurry.

Matt returns the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue. He rolls close, pressing himself against her, sliding his hand along her stomach and up to her bra. He too is languid, taking time to savor her.

Bernie's free hand creeps up along his abdomen and toward his chest, retreating back down as their arms near collision and pausing a while perched on the side of his waist, fingers moving very lightly against the skin. She breaks the kiss, eventually, with a quiet, contented wisp of a sigh.

Matt engages a little wrestling, tugging her shirt up over her head. when he has her arms caught up, and her vision obscured, he attacks, zerberting her belly button without mercy.

Bernie squeaks with surprise and laughter, struggling ineffectually against the onslaught. She wriggles more, then, trying to get the shirt off so it'll stop binding her, and she can fight back...

Matt doesn't prevent Bernie from freeing herself. In fact, he rolls onto his knees next to her, hands on either of her hips, nipping at her belly.

Bernie tosses the shirt carelessly aside; it lands on the edge of an open drawer of the dresser, dangling perilously. With that out of the way, she's free to push halfway up and =lunge=, still laughing. It's a hard position to tackle from, though!

Matt catches her and pushes her back down, gently but forcefully. He goes back to her belly, popping open the seatbelt buckle.

Bernie pouts exaggeratedly, mostly in a vain attempt to keep the grin from breaking through, and relaxes back into the mattress, lacing her fingers behind her head and watching with bright eyes. Apparently, she concedes... at least for the time being.

Matt growls, and quickly undoes Bernie's fly, tugging her pants down and sloughing them onto the floor beside the bed. New places to nibble, like the ticklish insides of her thighs.

Bernie shivers a little as Matt nibbles along that sensitive skin, and tenses, tightening her hands together to keep from moving them as she watches him. She's obviously actively exerting some self-control, perhaps so as not to rush things. Or maybe just to be contrary.

Matt backs off, looking up with a mischievous grin. He teases her with little kisses down her thighs to the backs of her knees, tickling her with his breath.

Bernie giggles, and squirms a little, though she tries not to. It =does= tickle, if pleasantly. She unlaces her hands from behind her head and pushes them under the small of her back as she lifts her head and shoulders a bit to watch him more closely.

Matt keeps teasing, nibbling and kissing ticklish spots until he is rewarded with a giggle, then, after a kiss or two more, he sits up, running a hand through his spiky hair. He puffs his cheeks out, eyes wide. "Whew, aren't you a temptin' morsel, then."

Bernie grins, pressing her hands into the mattress to sit up higher, getting her face much closer to Matt's as she rises. "I dunno," she replies playfully, "...am I?" She leans in about as far as she can to try and steal a kiss of her own.

Matt meets her halfway, kissing her gently, exploring the kis for a while. He twines an arm around her and plants the other on the bed beside her, allowing him to cradle and support her. After quite awhile he comes up for air. "Weighin' all th' evidence? Yes."

Bernie blushes slightly, pleased, and kisses him again, this one much quicker and lighter, if no less sincere. "You too," she says softly, then, gaze dropping to watch her fingertips trail down his chest.

Matt smiles shyly. "Still Oi can't believe yer jealous o' /Summer./" He kisses her lightly, giving her a chance to at least protest.

"'m not!" Bernie proclaims firmly, before pausing and looking a tad sheepish again. "Much." The kiss, however, she doesn't protest. As she pulls back from it, she giggles once, thinking about the emphasis. "...so who =should= I be jealous of, then?"

Matt makes a bewildered face. "Mm, fuck, Oi dunno.... Elizabeth Hurley?" He shrugs. "No one, really. No one at work, they're all pissed a' me."

Bernie folds her legs back beneath her, and edges forward on her knees, settling into his lap, one leg to either side of him and her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Touching the tip of her nose to his, she smiles, and then leans her head down to rest it on his shoulder, lips just barely touching his neck. "'m a'ight with not havin' t' be jealous of anyone. Honest. An' how come they're mad atcha?"

Matt shakes his head a little, not enough to dislodge her. "Not mad, scared. Th' Curse." He shrugs a little. "Well, maybe they're mad when 'm no' around, but no' ta me chevy chase, anyway."

"They're silly," Bernie opines, curse or no curse, and nuzzles in against his neck. "You're not scary. 'least, I don' think you're scary. They're jus' prejudiced." She grins, not that it can be seen in that position, but it might be felt.

Matt snorts. "Well, they know better than ta take th' piss wif me, anyroad." He shifts slightly, gliding his hands onto her hips, enjoying the warm feeling of her pressed against him.

Bernie kisses gently up the side of Matt's neck, no vocal response, this time. As his hands find her hips, she presses in a little more firmly against him, arms tightening somewhat, and trails the kisses higher, up and along his jaw.

Matt turns his head to kiss her properly. His smile is a bit sad now though, a stray thought. "You the jealous type then, Books?"

Bernie is startled by the question a moment, and pauses to consider it before she answers. When she does, she looks a little worried, uncertain. "I dunno. I mean, you're th' only person..." She breaks off, brow furrowing a little, and tries phrasing that again, "...I've never been in a position t' find out if I am, b'fore, I guess. I just..." She looks down again, and shrugs.

Matt nods. "Tom'd 'ave twists from time ta time. It's joost...Well, Cam an' Summer reminded me, that's all." He brushes a hand lightly across her cheek. "We may 'ave ta do roight by our tribes, at some point. Joost want ye ta know Oi'm okay wif it. I fink."

Bernie's eyes turn back to him, a little scared. "Like... how'd'you mean?" she asks, somewhat warily, though she doesn't move away in the slightest.

Matt isn't exactly happy, but totally open, honest. "Well, like if ye met a guy, an' 'e was Gnawer Kin, an ye liked 'im enough, then...." he runs out of words, and blushes. "Well, then you shouldn't worry about /me/."

"But I..." Bernie starts impetuously, and then stops, looking away, shoulders sagging a little as she goes on, almost inaudibly. "...I don't... =want= t' be with someone else. An' I don't..." She swallows. "...I don' wanna give you up t' someone else. Jus' 'cause she's... an' I'm...." Breaking off again, she tenses, willing herself not to start crying. A tiny, miserable whisper emerges, eventually. "I wish I were kin."

Matt wraps her up in his arms. "Oi don't wish ye were anyone else, Books. Maybe if /Oi/ were kin...or one of us, or Oi wasn't born exactly when Oi was." He sighs, heavily. "Or if Oi were a ragabash, an' didn't 'afta care...." He kisses the top of her head, gently. "Ah, fuck. Managed ta kill the romance, 'ere, then, didn't Oi." Again he purses his lips, blowing in frustration. "Guess we'll burn the bridge when we get to it, neh?"

Bernie curls into him closely, burying her face into the join of his shoulder and neck, her closed eyes making damp spots against the skin. "Don't wanna bridge," she objects quietly, "Want you. Wanna... share th' bed with you every night, an' grow old with you, an' be like seven'y-two years old onna front porch ripping up Wyrmthings with our false teeth, or somethin'." The image actually gets a bit of a smile. "We c'n trade auspices. You be th' Ragabash, I'll be th' Philodox. Jus'... a really bad one." She lifts her head, and sits up a bit, giving him a weak and slightly shy smile.

Matt chuckles. "Sure an' we should be so lucky, ta see seventy." He strokes her hair, slowly and gently, combing his fingers through her curls. "Oi don' want anyone else, eivver. An' maybe Oi'm too paranoid. Maybe my tribe won't give a fuck, an'll back us up. Maybe they already are. We're about th' worst kept secret in town..."

Bernie looks sheepish, and not entirely sure about this. "Y'think?" she asks, "...I mean... how come? Far's I know, only a couple people know..." She thinks about it, and pushes the usual stray curl back into place. "I don't care. Long's no one's tryin' t' stop it, I don't care..."

Matt shrugs. "Hell, Books, we're in a mental link wif four ovver people and a fookin' spiritual Raccoon. I'd be willin' ta bet /one/ of 'em put two an' two togevver. But they doan't care. Fianna don't care. Child o' Gaia doan't care." He scoots a little, taking her with him, until his back is supported by the wall. "Oi guess so long as there aren't any teapots, Oi shouldn't care eivver." He brushes at her eyes with a fingertip. "Still, an' all, there aren't enough o' us Garou ta pass up an opportunity if it comes up, neh?"

Bernie half-smiles. "'kay, well. Guess there's that, yeah. S'pose it might show there," she grants, touching his cheek gently. "An', well. I guess..." she continues, rather reluctantly. "Not gonna like it, though." She gives him a soft kiss on the lips, and leans on him again, thoughtfully. "Kina came t' th' conclusion that was what th' whole rule's 'bout anyway, really. Not that I'd wanna debate it with someone who was in th' middlea feelin' homicidal, or anythin', but. Anyway." She shuts herself up, and cuddles in closely.

"Finkin' like a bloody member o' Parliament, Oi am," Matt admits, thunking his skull soundly aganist the wall behind him. "Loike Oi'll no' want a scandal if Oi run fer 'igh office, or somefin'." He smiles, laughing at himself. "Oi doubt Oi'll loike it eivver, an' OI'm sure ye won't loike it if Oi 'ave ta do fer my tribe, but we'll get frough it when it 'appens."

Bernie giggles, blushing slightly. "D'you've any idea how temptin' it is t' make some kina terrible pun on 'th' honourable member'?" she asks, and goes a bit more serious. "Only, I dunno. Maybe you will wanna go for some kina high office sometime, an' I don' wanna... I guess, in'erfere, 'f y'do. But..." She trails off, and nods. "Yeah. Guess we'll get through things one way 'r another."