Martin has set up a little work area on the communal table, with his old black book open to one side, an inkwell on the other, and papers before him. He writes with an old fashioned quill, with pair of wire rimmed reading glasses perched above his nose and his hair, which is starting to grow longer, tied back in a short little tuft of a tail. A pot of tea is cooling on the table beside him, thus far ignored.

The drizzle, all pervasive thing that it is, drives Rahne indoors rather quickly. She walks into the diner, ignoring the familiar creaking of the door out of habit. This time, at least, her hair isn't wet since she's pulled it up and under a bandana that has faded to a red-grey. Only a curl or two escapes to hang damply against her cheeks. Glancing about the Diner, she stretches and smiles warmly at seeing Martin. Rather than disturb him, if the door didn't do so first, she pads on wet feet over to fridge to scrounge up a bottle of juice.

Martin writes to the end of the line, then glances up, blinking a bit as his vision shifts to accommodate not looking through spectacles anymore. Glancing toward the kitchen, he grins warmly, and his cheeks color as he says, "Ah, good morning, Rahne. H-how are you?"

Rahne looks over her shoulder as she rummages for the right juice, smiling broadly and wiggling the fingers of one hand. "Morning, Martin! I'm just lovely today, how about you?" she says sunnily, quite in contrast to the weather, and makes a noise of delight as she locates something that suits her beverage tastes. Standing up, she holds a bottle of something pale yellow and smiles triumphantly.

"You really are," Martin confirms, then ducks his head and clears his throat pointedly. "I'm well. Quite well. Thank you so much for asking." He pushes his spectacles further up his nose and glances down at the book he's reading from. He quickly starts to write again, as though it were something of grave importance.

Rahne leans her head to one side in her typical inquisitive expression, wandering over to stand just behind Martin's right side and look over his shoulder. "You're welcome....what are you up to, mmm?" she says softly, pitching it to not disturb his work too much

Martin's writing is a neat block print, not terribly interesting, but his words are legible: ... to understand is that at the time there was no grasp of modern medicine, and potential causes of disease were considered unclean in the eyes of God ... The book is an old, very old Bible, opened to the book of Leviticus, the passages declaring a woman in the midst of her cycle unclean in particular. Martin stops writing, the quill poised above the page, and he tilts his head to look up at Rahne guilelessly. "I'm annotating the Bible," he explains meekly.

Rahne's eyes read back along Martin's writing avidly for a moment, betraying her fondness for books in that small instance. Blinking out of it, she smiles gently at Martin and nods, "You're doing a good job, so far, from what I read. May I say that it is a pleasure to see writing that is easy to read?"

Martin's cheeks color nicely, and he sets the quill aside, grinning foolishly as he says, "Thank you. I, ah, my father taught me how to write. He was a very intelligent man." He eyes the passages he's annotating and explains apologetically, "It's not all like this. With the whole calling this and that unclean."

Rahne chuckles softly and nods, "I've read a bit or two of the Good Book myself...a long time ago. Mind, I don't think my copy was the same as the one you're working from, but it still was worth reading." Apparently, it takes a lot to set Rahne off kilter, and passages from such an old book are not going to do it. "How far along are you, anyway?"

Martin blinks a bit in surprise and glances at the book, then to Rahne then the book and back again. Apparently he's much easier to unsettle. He seems pleased at the surprise though. "I've read it through a few times. I only just started annotating. I've gotten through Genesis and Exodus. I'm working on Leviticus right now. Trying to put it into context, you see."

Rahne bobs her head slowly while that sinks in, "My, still got a ways to go, then. Admirable task, though. Probably would do much folk a lot more good in their lives if they can relate to how things are now...or understand how it was then." The last is said with a gesture to the most recent passage written.

The door opens again, and Ren wanders in, humming to himself. His coat is wrapped around himself, against the drizzle, presumably, but his feet are bare -- and oddly enough, his hair is down. He flashes the pair a bright smile, and wanders past them to the coatrack, where he idly slips out of his coat and hangs it up, still humming. His outfit, now visible, is... not quite his usual style. Leaning up against the table, he greets the pair innocently, "...hullo, loves."

Martin gazes up at Rahne with his proverbial heart in his eyes. She apparently knows just what to say. "I hope so," he replies, and though his smile is just a slight thing upon his lips, in his eyes it's radiant. He seems far more attached to this project than merely passing the time. As the door opens, he glances aside to greet the newcomer, but before he gets a word out, he just stares.

Rahne brightens noiceably at the look on Martin's face and is about to say something before Ren's entrance distracts her. She looks over just in time to see him hanging up his coat...and stops dead with her mouth half-open. It's hard to describe the look that flits behind her eyes, it changes so fast. Eventually, it settles on a dumbfounded look that is a small portion of amazement, and an unabashed giant-size helping of lust. All that manages to slip out of her gaping mouth are two whispered words, "Hello...sailor..."

Serendipity wouldn't intentionally play this up for them with his choices of movement, tone and such, would he? ...yes. Yes, he would. And does, shifting his pose to show it off more. "Kal gave me a fashion consultation. What d'you think, suit me?" he asks innocently, and does a little turn to give them the full view.

Martin gapes. For a moment, that's all he does. Then he slowly reaches a hand toward the Bible and closes it. "Tell me," he utters toward Rahne in a weak voice, "Am I the only one who wants to take him around back and do something I'll have to repent for?"

Kal's name seems to cut through the fog of things that have decided to fill Rahne's head. Blinking rapidly, she begins to giggle, at first stifling the noise behind her hand and looking very amused all of a sudden. "My, if that's his way of getting back at me, I'm impressed." she murmurs before turning her head to smile understandingly at Martin. "No, darling....you are most certainly -not- alone. Utterly and completely -not- alone."

"He thinks I oughta get my nipples pierced, too. Never got around to it b'fore, but I bet Sean could do it. Whatcha think?" Ren continues, bright and innocent, before he breaks into a wicked grin, "...an' I dunno what's stoppin' either of you... but you prolly oughta actually greet me b''fore you do it." He looks distinctly pleased with the effect, indeed.

Martin carefully tides his papers and caps the inkwell, then uses an inky kerchief to clean the quill. His motions are neat, succinct. "Good morning Serendipity," he greets as he tidies up his work area. "Would you like some tea?" With a glance toward Rahne, he adds, quieter, "If I didn't know any better I'd say he enjoys tormenting us."

"And you'd probably be quite correct, dear Martin." Rahne murmurs to Martin, patting him lightly on the shoulder before moving out from behind him and walking over to Ren. Stopping in front of him, she looks him up and down once and shakes her head with a touch of that earlier lust in her eyes. "Good morning, Ren...good morning, by far." she says before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek and whisper briefly in his ear.

Rahne pages: Now, how in the name of the book in Martin's hands do we get you out of those shorts?

Serendipity grins wider at the whisper, and slips an arm around Rahne's waist to draw her in closer and steal a kiss of his own before he replies, whispering in her ear in return, then letting her go and slinking over to plant himself in Martin's lap. "Morning, lovelies. That's much better."

Long distance to Rahne: Serendipity teases coyly, "Well, if you're a good girl an' ask real nice..."

Martin glances between the two, and rather than looking left out, he merely sighs the sigh of the contented voyeur. Holding out his arms to Ren, he circles the smaller man's waist and plants a kiss against his throat as he murmurs, "You'll catch cold in this."

Rahne giggles and allows the robbing before Ren slinks away, tossing a mock-pout at him for his response that fades quickly. Remembering she has a bottle of juice warming in her hand, she uncaps it and takes a long drink of the still-cool juice. That done, she wanders back towards Martin to lean lightly against the table. "Does that ever seem to bother him?"

Serendipity tilts his head to make the kiss easier, taking it as his due, for now -- which is not to say it's unappreciated. "Well, someone'll just hafta keep me warm, then," he replies to Martin, all innocence again, and hooks the back of Rahne's calf with his foot, nudging her closer.

Martin reaches for his tea, offering the cup to Ren, and then he uncoils an arm from around the kin to offer to Rahne. An arm for each babe, oh how he does suffer. "I don't think anything bothers him," he tells Rahne wryly. Martin glances Ren over -- how can he help it? He sighs. Was suffering mentioned?

Rahne makes an amused squeak at Ren's foot and happily adds herself to the circle of Martin's arms, leaning into him and reciprocating with her own arm against his shoulders. "If anything bothers Ren, I think -everyone- would know it, not just us." she quips, sipping from her bottle occasionally.

Serendipity just laughs, and shifts in Martin's lap to make the trio fit more easily. And if that involves more wriggling than some might think was strictly neccesary, who's to say? He accepts the tea, then, and takes a sip, half-closing his eyes in decidedly -- perhaps just a =touch= exaggerated -- sensual appreciation of it.

Martin hmphs quietly and tugs Ren firmly where he wants him on his lap. Wriggling indeed. "I think you're right," he tells Rahne. Then he sighs blissfully as he says, "I can't tell if the Devil tempts me or my God rewards me. You're both so beautiful."

Rahne's cheeks turn faintly pink with the compliment, one she covers up relatively well by draining her juice rather quickly. Setting it down on the table, she ponders Martin's statement and smiles, "I'm on the side of reward, myself." Reaching out, she captures some of Ren's hair in her hand and twines it loosely about her fingers. "Definitely a reward."

"I dunno," Ren replies to Martin, giving him a wicked look, "...which one d'you see when we're in bed?" The grin escapes, then. "I gotta throw my vote with Rahne. 'course, you're not 'zactly chopped liver yourself, han'some. 'm =sure= Coyote approves. ...of botha you," he adds, hooking a finger into the waistband of Rahne's shorts, and just letting his hand rest there.

Martin murmurs helplessly, "God give me strength." Both of them get an affectionate squeeze. Suddenly, quite serious, he mentions, "I don't want either of you to think that I'm merely giving into my baser urges. I happen to care about you both."

Rahne's other hand toys with the little bit of fluff that is Martin's ponytail, "There are many different kinds of love, not one is truly better than the other. To me, love on any level is beautiful, so there is nothing to disapprove of in it." That's about as philosophical as Rahne is going to get tonight, leaning her head against the top of Martin's softly.

Serendipity turns his head and touches the tip of Martin's nose lightly with his own. "I know," he says quietly, and then grins up at Rahne. "'m tellin' you, woman after my own heart."

Martin grins a bit, ducking his head, and his cheeks color a little. "You'll both give me grey hair before I'm thirty," he accuses fondly. Then, more seriously, he confides, "I've seen pleasure wielded as a weapon, to subjugate the weak and enslave the desolate." He regards each of them in turn, unafraid to look them in the eye despite bashfulness abounding. "I just want to make it clear that... that is in my past, not my future."

Rahne gives Martin a gentle squeeze with the arm about his shoulders, bending her head to kiss the top of his. "I will speak no more of such a thing, then. It is not love, in my mind, and I would not bring your mind back to it willingly." she says lowly, having slipped into a somewhat formal tone of voice that is almost devoid of accent. Ren gets a warm smile from behind a contented expression with half-lidded eyes, raising both eyebrows at him for his comment.

Serendipity says simply, "Would I enslave someone?" He leans sideways against Martin's chest, and sighs contentedly. "I mean, except maybe real temporarily if they wanted me too?"

Martin looks Ren over again, for good measure. "I suppose 'would' and 'could' are two different notions," he replies wryly. Then he sighs contently, closing his eyes as he gazes at Rahne with a gentleness that is so incongruous with the sheer muscular bulk of him. "We may speak of anything," he says, and though there is a formality to his tone, there are also smile lines around his eyes, and his cheek dimples. "I'm not afraid of what might be, and I would rather atone for what once was rather than try to pretend it never existed. I have feelings for you both, is what I think I'm trying to say. I wouldn't ever wish to hurt either of you."

"Consider the emotion and the intent mutual, then. I may be a creature capable of destruction, but it is more within my nature to create and praise." Rahne says thoughtfully before grinning widely and pulling Martin's ponytail loose, ruffling his hair mercilessly, "Ah, I'm gettin' maudlin' on y'all. Must remedy this and quickly!"

"Absolutely," Ren agrees, deadpan, "...let's go have sex. Uh -- I mean, I care 'bout botha you, too..." He breaks into a grin, then, and adds sincerely, instead of joking, "...really. But you know that, yeah?"

Martin laughs abruptly, Ren's words getting both a blush and unbidden amusement from the would-be monk. He shakes his head so that his hair can fall loosely, the waves getting a bit shaggy for their lack of a trim. "I was about to suggest perhaps we could, ah, affirm our feelings in a more enjoyable fashion."

Rahne curls her fingers in both heads of hair and smiles quite happily, "Whatever strikes th' fancy of the both of you is fine by me. Certainly finer things to be doing than sitting and starin' at the rain." Dark hair in one hand, light hair in another, and Rahne with her red-hair between them. Must be quite a picture.

Serendipity gives Martin a wide-eyed look. "More enjoyable'n sex? You better take us home an' demonstrate this amazing thing," he remarks, all amazement, before the grin creeps back and he slips out of Martin's lap, to his feet.

Martin sighs heavily and points out, "More enjoyable than talking." He gives Rahne a long-suffering look. The things he must endure. "Would the two of you like to seek shelter from the rain somewhere warm? I can't think of a better way to spend this day than with the pair of you."

Rahne gives Ren an amused look and nods softly to Martin, "Please. I would like that, yes. One could not ask for better company, in my mind." She backs up somewhat so that Martin has room to stand, himself.

Serendipity saunters over to the coatrack and grabs his coat again, draping it over his shoulder, one hand keeping it in place. "Sounds good t' me. Treehouse, or should we look for somewhere even warmer?"

Martin rises, pausing to ruffle Rahne's hair fondly before gathering up his books and papers. "The treehouse sounds fine," he replies. "Though I can't wait until you get that house fixed up. I'm always half afraid the floor's going to collapse under me."

Rahne wriggles her nose a bit and gives a knowing look to Ren, "Sounds dandy, and maybe -then- we can figure out how in the world you got -into- those shorts."

"Same way anyone else does," Ren replies cheerfully, and collects both of them as he heads for the door. "Be happy t' let you practice when we get there."