Serendipity groans, shifting in the blankets to drop a hand over his eyes, blocking out the beam of light that's insistently falling across them through a parting in the tent. "...I see why that guy called this the sunroad," he mutters half under his breath, and tugs at the top sheet as though he were seriously considering hiding under it.

Martin is up, washed, dressed, shaven, and outside the tent the campfire can be heard to crackle, and there is the scent of roasting meat and strong coffee. Martin is currently lying beside Serendipity, writing in his journal. "Good morning," he says warmly.

Serendipity emerges from under the blanket again, as it moves very little while pinned under Martin's not-inconsiderable bulk, and sits up blearily, rubbing at his eyes. He's not looking his absolute best this morning, frankly. "Nnng. What're you doing all up and cheery already? What time is it? Is there actually someone hitting me on the head with a rock, or is that just =inside= my skull?"

Martin says lightly, "It's half past seven. Hardly early." Doesn't it just make one want to kill him? "I'm afraid that would be the rum trying to escape from last night. Do you want a nip off my flask? A little hair of the dog that bit you?"

Serendipity's hand finally leaves his eyes, rubbing at his neck for a moment before he looks down at himself, trying to focus on his arms. "I don't think that's what bit me. Did =you= bite me? Oh, hey, rum. Yes please." He holds out a hand to accept the flask, while sticking his head out of a tentflap to squint at their surroundings. "...ow. Where did the tavern go?"

Martin offers Ren his flask. It's full of gin, but hey, who's counting? "It got up and left," he replies. "It only seems like we traveled late into the night after you got caught with the innkeeper's daughter in the pantry with your trews around your ankles."

"I got caught?" Ren asks, distinctly disappointed, and takes a good swallow off the flask. "...that is not rum," he informs Martin, before taking another drink. He makes a face, and somewhat reluctantly hands the booze back. Running a hand with difficulty through the tangles that seem to have invaded his hair, he brightens up a bit. "Oh well. Sounds like a good story, anyway. Did I have fun? ...did =you= have fun?"

Martin caps the flask and returns it to his belt. "Well, life is all about surprises." He closes his journal and slips out of the tent, agile for a big man, and he puts together a slab of salted pork on some warm bread for the hungover one. "I think a good time was had by all if I'm any judge of a young lady's laughter. The important thing is no one got hurt."

"Possibly not the inkeeper," Ren reflects without any apparent remorse, reaching out to squeeze Martin's rear when it passes him. "...morning, pireno. You're too good t' me, y'know. I might get useta it and then where'll we be?"

Martin gives Ren a look as he's grabbed, but he neither protests nor condones. It's a fond look, honestly. "On the road, under the stars, slowly making our way back to civilization? Have some breakfast. I went easy on the spices since I imagined you'd be a bit under the weather. The coffee will do you good."

"So about the same, then." Ren stretches gingerly, and rubs at his temples a little. "It smells good. I mean, my stomach's doing that thing where it marches around waving signs about unfair t' digestion an' all, but it still smells pretty damn good. ...I think we're gettin' nearish the ocean, too. Either that or I'm hungover worse'n I thought."

Martin offers over a cup of coffee and sets the plate of food nearby. "Eat what you can. I'll make sure the rest finds a good home." No doubt in his stomach, the bottomless well of perdition that it is. "We made good time last night, what with you singing to scare away all the highwaymen and predators."

Serendipity can't help snickering a little at the mental image. "You are a kind, kind, brave an' patient man, handsome. ...what was I singing? Am I gettin' any better at it?"

Martin admits, "I'm not sure I understood the language in which you were singing. It was either Arabic or you were really drunk." He pours himself some coffee and settles down by the fire to sip. "You know how it is, love turns all things to sweet music."

"It probably was Arabic. I always wanna seduce you when I'm drunk," Ren points out, "...not that I don't when I'm sober, but y'know what I mean." He sips cautiously at the coffee, then relaxes when his body doesn't rebel any further. The meat and bread get a wary but slightly longing look.

Martin smiles a slight, mysterious little smile between sips of coffee. "Oh, you tried," he replies with modest amusement. "And an admirable effort it was until the sleep goblins got you. You made a wonderful blanket though."

Serendipity looks briefly chagrined before the humour of it wins out, and he breaks into a broad grin. "Heh. Sounds like a fun night... wish I was there." The coffee disappears really quite quickly once he gets going, and he pulls over the plate of food to take the leap.

Martin remains calm. Watchful, but not fretful. "It was lovely," he replies. "You make the journey a means within itself, and I wouldn't trade this for anything."

"...darkin' hell, this is delicious," Ren manages around his second bite of breakfast, wolfing the meal down with very little regard for etiquette or pausing for conversation. "...thanks. So... d'we have any particular plans for t'day? Beyond, y'know, go west young man?"

Martin takes the swearing in stride, with only a cluck of his tongue to chide. "I thought today we might travel easy since our evening was so eventful that we made better time than we intended. Perhaps we could make a day of it, just enjoying the natural world before once more drawn into the city life."

Serendipity nods once, then winces. "...good plan. Yeah. Hey, maybe we can find a lake or pond or something, go swimming. Been a few days since last time." He picks up his trousers from beside the bedding, and looks somewhat confused at discovering a weight in one pocket which turns out to be a silvery-metal pocketwatch, wrapped in a bit of fabric. Which in turn appears to be a pair of panties. Ren blinks bemusedly at both.

Martin's brow lifts, but he says not a word. Instead, he stokes the fire. "There's a creek over the hill through that copse of trees. It's got a swimming hole, nice for bathing, clean water and sizeable trout. Maybe we can catch ourselves some supper when the day is done."

Serendipity stares at the items for a second more, then shrugs and moves them to a pocket of his coat instead. Can't ruin the line of the pants, after all. "Fish sounds good. Plan. So how d'you know about this place? Been in this area before? Or did you get preemptive directions back at the inn?"

Martin points out, "I awaken around five in the morning when I'm on the road. I've had plenty of time to have a look around." He helps himself to a bit of salted pork, nibbling at it daintily now that he's probably already eaten a lion's share. "There's nothing like watching the sunrise over the trees."

Serendipity gives Martin a wounded look. "What, you abandon me all alone an' incapacitated where any scalawag can attack me, when there might be a big guy whose job includes hacking up meat with a cleaver who wants a word with me? ...guess you lucked out =this= time."

Martin shakes his head, casting a brief glance heavenward. "Are you saying that the unstoppable Serendipity Jones needs a bodyguard? Besides, I figured if he hadn't caught up by dawn, he wasn't going to."

Serendipity grins again. "But I like it when you guard my body." The food and drinks seem to be helping; he slips into his pants and shirt, gets his boots on. Buttons, however, can apparently wait for later. "Fair enough, I guess. Find anything else exciting?"

Martin replies, "That depends on how you define excitement. Not your version per se. There are some wild berries up on the ridge, herbs in the undergrowth and a nice assortment of wild squash for the taking. I found wild dill." He smiles crookedly. "Riveting stuff."

"Berries sounds pretty exciting, actually," Ren decides, "...what kind? Are they ripe? I c'n think of some nice uses for 'em if they're good..." He shifts onto his knees, and tries to catch Martin for a good, sound kiss. One hopes breakfast has cured morning breath.

Martin starts to say something, but it cuts off with an 'erf' at the kiss, and he relaxes, returning it sweetly and quite thoroughly, gathering Ren up close to him. "Mmm, wicked boy," he murmurs. "Berries stain, plus they're sticky. Plus it is my divine calling to ruin your fun."

Serendipity pouts his bottom lip out a touch. "I liked it better when your divine calling was teaching people about the stuff in your book," he protests, and bats his lashes. It's a bit silly. "Anyway, skin doesn't stain, and I promise I can get rid of any and all stickiness. Trust me..."

"Your skin doesn't stain," Martin points out. "Mine is fair. It does. But I suppose if there are no people around to tell about the book -- thereby triggering the imperative whereby I ruin your fun -- then there is no one to see the stains on my skin and wonder. However, I was thinking they'd make a nice glaze for the fish."

"Now you're making more sense. We'll just hafta find enough for both dishes." Ren runs a hand idly over Martin's chest, arching a brow at the man, "...anyway, since when is it an issue if people wonder? Got nothin' to hide. ...uh, that I remember, anyway."

Martin explains, "You have nothing to hide. I have to present myself with dignity when I'm doing the work of the Lord." He kisses Ren's nose, then suggests, "We could go to the swimming hole and wash the intoxicating perfume of rum off of you, my darling. If you so desire."

Serendipity wrinkles his nose. "All work of the Lord and no play of the Lord makes Martin a dull boy of the Lord," he teases, and claims another distinctly lingering kiss before he stands. "So, swimming and making me smell less like a walking tavern, then."

Martin laughs warmly at the comment, and he returns the kiss, holding Ren close to him as he draws it out lazily. "Mmmn, yes, that would be the plan. Then more lazing in the sun, perhaps a nap. Your rascal behavior has afforded us an entire afternoon to waste, for which I thank you greatly."

Serendipity nods solemnly. "I've behaved disgracefully," he laments, almost immediately breaking into a wide grin. "And I plan to do it again and soon, if it always ends up with that kinda afternoon planned. C'mon." He ducks through the flaps and outside.

Martin follows after, pausing to pour a bucket of water on the fire. No use letting that go untended next to their worldly possessions. "You're incorrigible," he 'complains' as he catches up, then leads the way along a wending path to the burbling creek with its inviting swimming hole. "Despite that I try to corrige you all the time."

Serendipity slides an arm around Martin's waist, not at all avoiding any opportunities for groping it might afford. "Mmm, and you corrige with the best of 'em, pireno. 'fact, you c'n corrige me any time you like." He wriggles his eyebrows at the blond, and grins again. "Gonna be interestin', being in a city again."

Martin counter-gropes casually. He's had time to become comfortable with this level of affection, and so his reticence has faded into unrestrained affection. "I'm pensive," he admits. "I enjoy the country so much. But the Lord's work needs done everywhere."

Serendipity gives Martin a reassuring squeeze. Though those aren't =usually= given to the rear end. "You gotta take the work to where it needs doing," he agrees cheerfully. "Anyway, cities're great. Always things t' see and people t' do... an' I might've gotten that backwards, but hey, either way. And it's not like y'can't leave 'em when you want country again."

Martin travels with Ren. He's used to having just about everything squeezed in some fashion or another, and it gets a grin out of him, and he slings an arm around the man's shoulders. "True enough. Why borrow worry when one can simply take things as they come?"