Cameron is sitting on the top step of the porch, eyes dull and staring into space. His forearms rest on his knees, hands folded up together as he sits quietly.

In the dimness, Bernie's identifiable by silhouette before anything else; those curls are almost unmistakable. Next is a soft humming, or, as it gets slightly closer, singing, actually. "...sooner or later you're gonna decide, sooner or later there's nowhere to hide, baby, it's time, so why waste it in chatter? Let's settle the matter..." The quiet alto trails off as she sees the Fianna on the steps, and she walks the last few steps up to him quietly, head cocked curiously, and a bit concerned. "Hey," she greets him. At this distance, it's slightly startling to see that her face and neck seem to be recovering from burns, giving her an odd sort of patchwork appearance. The curls that she's constantly pushing out of her face are nowhere to be found, and neither are her eyebrows.

Cameron takes a moment to see her - mostly ignoring her singing approach with a dull disinterest. "Mmm?" Looking up at her he frowns, and starts to rise. "What the hell happened to you?" he murmurs.

Bernie blinks once, then raises a hand to touch her face, as if just reminded -- which she probably was. "Oh," she replies, a touch of blush coming up behind the pink new skin among the remaining burns, "sewer, big ugly wyrmy thing, some kina gas explosion, y'know, sorta thing. Almost better, though, so, coulda been worse, an' all..." Downplaying the injuries as usual. "...what th' hell happened t' =you=? Y'look all... well, =somethin's= wrong, I'm pretty sure..."

Cameron blinks, too, and chews his lip. Waving a hand dismissively, he grunts, "Ah. Just... nothing. Just a little fight with Alicia. She just..." He throws his hands in the air, and shrugs. "Ahh, I dunno. It was nothing." he finishes, dropping his eyes a little. Then raising them to peer at Bernie's burns suspiciously. "An explosion, eh?"

Bernie's brow furrows a bit. "...again? Man, I just can't leave you two alone at all, huh?" she asks, a bit wryly. "...an' yeah. Big ol' fireball. Got me an' Kaz. But, it got th' big Wyrmy thing, too. Though, I dunno how bad, so it might still be wand'rin' 'round down there... an' we got three morea th' lights up, so, overall not a resounding success, but pr'ductive..."

Cameron smiles cheekily. "Only three? Heard they got five up last time. Gettin' harder, is it?"

Bernie half-smiles; her teeth look whiter than usual against the burns and fresh skin. "Maybe; I di'n' go with th' first time. But after we turned inta crispy critters th' foura us kina figured it was time t' cut an' run. Well. Cut an' hobble, anyhow." She grins fully at that, and glances toward the door. "Kina thirsty. Y'wanna go in?"

Cameron smiles at the joke, and inclines his head in the affirmative. "Yeah. Probably a good idea. I was meaning to get a Coke or something, anyway. Maybe a bite." He muses as he opens the door and holds it open for Bernie. "Yeah. A little snack or something."

Bernie passes through the door, nodding back, "...that'd work, yeah. 's a long walk, y'know..." She heads in, and straight for the kitchen. "...So, what else's new then?"

Cameron hmms as he follows after Bernie, not really paying attention. "Not much. Been spending a bit of time in the Caern, not doing much. Starting to get impatient again, maybe." He shrugs, dismissing it, then heads for the kitchen.

Bernie drops into one of the kitchen chairs, and puts her feet up on another, with a sigh. It =is= a long walk, longer while recuperating. "...get me a drink too, wouldja please?" she asks, "...whatever'll do." Her backpack thunks on the tabletop.

Cameron mumbles, "Summer brought cookies. Milk and cookies, maybe." as he fetches said food and drink - getting out a plate and glasses and moving them over to the table.

"I c'n do milk an' cookies," Bernie agrees, closing her eyes a moment. The skin behind her glasses seems unharmed; either it's healed already or the spectacles protected it. "So speakin' of your favourite season, how's she doin'?"

Cameron shrugs lightly, and smiles faintly. "She's cool, as always. I'm a little worried... her boss got shot the other day, and we don't know much about it, yet." He shrugs again. "Reckons she misses me." The smile widens a little, becoming more thoughtful. "So I should spend more time here where she knows she can find me. Gotta love her." he says happily, shaking his head a little. He puts the plate and glasses down on the table, and snatches a cookie up to munch. Chocolate chip.

Bernie grins a bit, picking up a cookie herself, but only toying with it, for now. The milk, though, she sips, with a little relieved sigh. "Shot, not so good. Seems like a lotta people gettin' hurt lately, but maybe that's jus' 'cause I was onea 'em this time...." she muses, "...yeah, prolly. But seein' each other, that I'm in favour of, 'least. An' she brings cookies? Perfick."

Cameron smiles, and takes a seat, nibbling on the cookie. Half-heartedly now. "I know." he says slightly glumly. "Watch out, I'll be turning into Alicia, soon." he adds, wryly.

Bernie tilts her head, brow furrowing slightly. "...howzat?" she queries, unable to parse the comment, "...you're gonna start singin', wearin' sports bras, get your tongue pierced....?" Still no cookie biting, but another gulp of milk.

Cameron smiles, slightly amused. "Nah, it's just the sort of thing Alicia says about Tom. 'He's too good for me', and all that. Except she said that about me and Summer. Got me thinking. She's probably right." he replies quietly, staring at his cookie.

Bernie's brow furrows more deeply; this time, her eyes seem to darken slightly. "Oh, yeah? An' how come? Never b'lieved it when she says it, don't see why it'd be true for you..."

Cameron shrugs, and gives Bernie a wry smile. Deep blue eyes darkened by something. Something secret, with a grain of wisdom to it. Unusual. "It'd be up to her to decide, wouldn't it." he says quietly, then takes a drink of milk, breaking the eye contact. "Nah, I know most of my flaws. Weak-willed, I'm thinking of." He shakes his head a little, and reaches for his half-finished cookie again. "Whatever." he adds, lamely.

Bernie's remain on Cameron, regarding him thoughtfully. She's well aware of the sorts of things those kind of 'whatevers' tend to mean when she says them... that there's more to the story, usually. "...Yeah?" she remarks, over her milk, "'s not somethin' I'd noticed..." A bite of the cookie, finally.

Cameron laughs self-deprecatingly. A little chuckle that ends abruptly as he chews on the cookie in his hand. "Well. Only in certain areas. Drink, women, and fighting, usually." he replies with a mouthful of choc-bits, and biscuit. He shrugs dismissively. "Not a rare character flaw at all." he says with a faint smile, still avoiding Bernie's eyes.

Bernie half-smiles again. "Wine, women, an' gettin' th' shit kicked outta ya?" she teases a bit, glancing into her milk and taking another sip. "...I dunno... I s'pose willpower's not infallible for pretty much anyone, yeah?" She reaches up to push a curl behind her ear, but the curl's gone, singed off in the explosion.

Cameron rubs his chin thoughtfully, smiling a little. "Well. Getting the shit kicked out of me was pretty rare until I came here. Rarer, when you learn your place." He sighs lightly. "Back home, it's on top. Here... it's at the bottom." He takes a sip of milk, and finishes off his cookie. "Which I'm cool with."

"It'll get higher," Bernie replies confidently, "...soon 'nough. Already has, some ways." She nibbles the cookie some more, and looks at it in her hand. "'s good. She's got some bakin' talent. Woo."

Cameron nods, thoughtfully, reaching for another cookie. "Aye." he says quietly, examining the cookie. "Might have to do something about my place on the ladder, too." He smiles at the biscuit, mischievously, then bites into it.

Bernie grins a bit, at that. "Oh, yeah? Whatcha plannin' in th' waya social climbin', then?" She drinks more of her milk, likely to end up in the unenviable position of being milkless with cookie remaining.

Cameron shrugs and chuckles lightly. "I dunno. Pullin' my finger out and showing some initiative, for once? Chasing up elders until they can't teach me any more without me being Rited." He inclines his head. "You know. Target the ones who've shown an interest. Sepdet. Kaz." The Aussie's smile is small, and crooked. "Gotta be better than sitting here and watching grass grow."

Bernie grins again, and nods. "Sounds like a plan. All for 'nitiative. 's basic'ly what I tried t' do, most times... yeah, chase 'em down. Make people talk where you c'n soak shit up. All 'at. An' maybe give th' newer cubs a hand; Matt useta say it was th' best way t' study up on stuff, an' I dunno, but I felt like I knew stuff better after I was teachin' it t' Roto-rooter, or Otter." A pause, while she finishes off the cookie.

Cameron lowers an eyebrow. "Roto-rooter?" he asks with an amused look.

"Roto-rooter, Rotarian, Rotary-wing Aircraft..." Bernie rattles off airily, and grins, shrugging. "Rotem."

Cameron quirks his mouth. "It's all greek to me, Bern. Who's Rotem? And Otter?"

Bernie blinks at Cam. "...You gotta be th' last 'rou in th' fucking =state= not t' hear 'bout Rotem..." She half-smiles again, shakes her head. "He's th' male Gnawer cub, one that keeps gettin' almost culled. 'cept, he's improved lately. An' Otter's Ann'ka, th' other cub. I know y'know her."

Cameron nods in the affirmative to the mention of Anneka. As for comment about Rotem... he just grunts and finishes off another biscuit. "I'll steer clear of Rotem, then." he grunts. "Low tolerance for assholes lower'n me on the food-chain." he adds, reaching for his milk. He's taking his milk and cookies in some sort of rationing system, it seems.

Bernie finishes off her milk, and gives the glass an almost glum look on finding it empty. "...well, honestly, he's improved a heck of a lot. So, y'know, 'least give him a chance." She relaxes back in the chair, and rubs a hand lightly across her forehead, glancing around for a clock.

Cameron helpfully offers his watch, as he takes the last cookie and finishes it off quickly.

Bernie checks the time, and sighs, making a face. She looks somewhat torn, actually, as she sets her empty glass aside.

Cameron watches her neutrally, licking the crumbs off his fingers, then washing them down with the last significant portion of milk left in his glass. "You got somewhere to be?" he asks cheerfully.

"Bed," Bernie replies, "one way or th' other. On th' one hand, I really don' feel like walkin' all th' way back, just now. On th' other hand..." She trails off, just a hint of wistfullness in the tone. "...prolly most reas'nable t' make usea th' =original= dec'dence, t'night, I guess..." Despite the walk, it still sounds as though she's convincing herself.

Cameron shrugs as he stands up. "I'll get some blankets." he says warmly, pushing his glass further onto the table, and straightening the sleeves of his jacket.

"....yeah," Bernie replies, a little absently, briefly off in her own world, and then blinks, shaking her head, "...wait, there aren't enough up there already? Tha's new."

Cameron grins mischeivously. "You meant the attic? Bah. That's got a real bed. Hardly bohemian decadence. I was gonna pitch you into the barn loft."

Bernie shakes her head, "Nah, the attic's th' 'riginal dec'dence. Th' barn's just..." She trails off, with a fleeting mischievous grin that almost immediately melds into a normal one, "...chilly. Plus it's more transient salesman, like all th' jokes..."

Cameron shrugs lightly and takes the plate and two glasses over to the sink. "Rightio, then. Might turn in as well. Least I don't have to carry you up there." He chuckles to himself a little as he rinses the crockery.

Bernie's grin remains as she glances around the room. "Oh, I'm sure there's more'n enough stuff in here t' fix that, too, 'f one was so inclined. But seein' as th' burns don't really hurt much anymore, I think I'll be makin' that walk myself, t'night, yeah."

Cameron inclines his head and gives Bernie an appraising look. "Growin' some balls, eh?" he asks his elder, with a small, wry smile. "Well if there's no-one up there now, I guess the bed's mine."

Bernie laughs, though she seems to pinken slightly at the question. "Oh, yeah? An' what happened t' first sharea th' sleepin' arrangements for th' greatest in station?" she replies, teasing again, "...not t' mention I'm a poor weakened invalid. Cad."

Cameron grins. "Males can fight me for the bed, 'less they're higher. Females get it by default. You should know that." he says laughingly. "Just funnin'." He leaves the glasses and plate merely rinsed, not washed, and stifles a yawn.

Bernie picks up her backpack, and leans against the table. "Oh, well. That's a'ight, then. But don' let it happen 'gain...." Burns or not, she's fairly cheerful. Maybe it's because they're healing. She stifles a yawn of her own, hand over mouth. "Mmph. Onward an' upward?"

Cameron nods, with a tired expression on his face. "Yeah. 'less you want time to get changed in private, or something. I'm pretty sure you don't mind the sight of a Fianna in boxers." He grins rakishly, now. Nearly leering.

Bernie blushes, as usual, but smirks slightly, too, arching a brow as she starts toward the stairs. "D'pends entirely on th' Fianna," she replies, hands slipping into her jacket pockets while she walks.

Cameron chuckles a little, and follows her up the stairs, continuing to grin in that suggestive way. "Mmhmm. Wait till you see this little stud muffin. The 'Look but don't touch' rule will bring a new definition to pain when you see my tight little buns." he jokes, unable to keep himself from cackling half-way through.

Bernie manages to hold back the snicker long enough to reply with fairly effectively earnest innocence, "Oooh, I di'n' know =you= were a baker =too=...." Then it escapes, as she opens the door to the attic.

Cameron laughs brightly as he follows, taking time to murmur, "Bah. Now, I'd expect better from a Raggie." under his breath, teasingly, also disappearing into the attic.