Grumpy With A Chance Of Sunshine


Bowen.jpg Cheusia.jpg Teallan.jpg

Date: 10/6/10
Location: EW: Living Cavern
Synopsis: A late breakfast brings Bowen to meeting Teallan, but before things could go completely south, so to speak, Cheusia arrives and saves Bowen from putting his foot in his mouth, well any more than he already had.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: Bowen

Late morning in the living cavern brings with it one calm, stoic figure who sedately enters the cavern proper and moseys over to the food and beverage table for whatever slim pickings are left over of breakfast before the kitchen crew starts preparing for the lunch crowd. The first thing Bowen grabs is the klah, of course, and while he is drinking that, he works on preparing a plate of eggs and other breakfast items that are probably luke warm or room temperature by now at best. If the stocky tanner minds this, though, there’s little expression to say so. Once his plate is done, he holds it in one hand and the mug of klah in the other and regards the cavern for a suitable place to sit.

First run of lessons done and the kids are off to do various chores around the Weyr proper. Erratic threadfall means more work and less time for learning; something that many Harpers often bemoan. With a small satchel slung over her shoulder, Teallan moseys on in to the Caverns and straight towards the food as well. Like most, yes, Klah is her first stop and she's on to filling up a plate. Apparently she didn't get a meal before lessons.

Right there. That’ll do. He briefly glances at a Harper on her way to the food tables, giving her a polite nod without speaking, before he slides in at a recently vacated table. Flicking crumbs of some kind off the table, which probably earns him a few glares from nearby kitchen help whose responsibility is to sweep and mop these floors, Bowen takes off his hat and sets it down next to his mug at the table, and then gets to eating and drinking his breakfast at a sedate pace. He doesn’t exactly keep his attention strictly to his plate, but it’s clear he does his best to avoid eye contact with anyone nearby.

"It really is a shame we have no candidates right now," Teallan says brightly as she settles into a seat. For all that she looks tired, she certainly doesn't /sound/ it. The young woman wears the knot of a senior apprentice Harper, but the stack of paperwork she pulls from that satchel (all secured by a clipboard that looks to be straining with the effort) doesn't seem the standard fare for an apprentice, senior or no. "When I was a Candidate, these tables would be cleaned between diners," she continues, pausing to drink down some of the klah. "Well, I suppose it won't be terribly long before /someone/ goes up."

Bowen slows his chewing down to a stop as Teallan settles in a seat at his table. His blue eyes regard her and her knot a moment, and then to the rest of the table, and finally he gives a look behind him, as if seeing if she was talking to someone there. Slowly turning back around to look at her once more, Bowen resumes chewing quietly, his gaze now travelling to her clipboard and the satchel and the mug of klah and her plate. Eventually, very eventually, the stocky tanner swallows the bite down, and lifting his own mug of klah to his mouth, he murmurs, “’Goes up’ an’ reports the drudges fer bein’ lazy?” Bowen really has no idea what the heck she’s talking about.

"No," Teallan says with a barely restrained sigh. "One of the golds. I mean, it has been a while since the Hatching. There's four now and even if the young ones are too young yet, surely one of the senior two will rise." She clucks her tongue slightly, as if shocked he didn't understand. The klah is set aside and she begins flipping through the paperwork with one hand whilst the other gropes near-blindly at her plate for a meatroll.

Bowen has heard sighs and that clucking-tongue sound from women before and it sets the hairs on the back of his neck on end, and his mouth sets a grim line on his features. He watches her warily as he continues eating and drinking and she goes into her paperwork, but lapses into silence, which – he realizes – he probably should have just kept his mouth shut in the first place. Despite his discomfort, the man does not move any faster than he normally does, which is to say is slow, and so while he doesn’t pick at his food, he isn’t suddenly shoveling it in to try and get away from Teallan as fast as possible.

Not that it would surprise her. People moving quickly to get away is an occurance Teallan is familiar with and long since grown used to. Someone sticking around, now, that's a curiousity. A few marks are made on some of the pages before she does look up and squint at Bowen for a moment. "Tanner. Smelly work, that." Yep, that's all she has to say there. "Did you recently arrive or have I just missed you in all the insanity?"

Bowen stops chewing as she speaks to him more directly, even asking a question. For a brief moment, a deer-in-headlight look crosses his expression and then he slowly resumes chewing. He still has some manners left, though, as he waits until he finishes chewing and swallows before he speaks again, “Reckon that depends on yer idear a’recent, ma’am.” He sips his klah and his blue eyes go back to his plate as he swallows the beverage and sets the mug back down.

Teallan blinks a few times and sits up straighter, facing Bowen somewhat more directly. She folds her hands before her, forgoing both clipboard and plate. "Well, if you're going to be so contrary… When did you arrive, Tanner?"

“Ask a …” don’t say it Bo. Don’t say ‘stupid’, “an ind’rect question, get a vague answer.” Bowen says in that soft husky Southern accent. His forkful of breakfast was on its way to his mouth as she asks him more directly and he nods slightly, seeming to approve of it, even if her greater scrutiny of him actually has the stocky man shifting in his seat. He does shove that forkful in his mouth, however, not pausing to answer first, and it allows him some extra time to answer as he chews and swallows and finally says, “I reckon a few sevens ‘go, ma’am.” He picks up his mug for another sip and looks around the room, casually hoping some dragon Betweens right into the cavern or something for some distraction so he can make a getaway.

"Well, that's recent, isn't it? I mean, had it been a full Turn or even a few months, that'd be a whole different matter." Teallan shakes her head and grabs another meatroll, eating it swiftly. Practically inhaling it, even. "A couple of sevenday is no time at all and I imagine the majority of folks would consider that recent." Yes, she can talk. A lot.

Bowen shrugs, now looking down at his plate again and wondering if he really needs to eat the rest of his breakfast after all. “Reckon I wouldn’t know, ma’am. I try not ta think fer other folk. I got me ‘nough troubles thinkin’ fer m’self,” could be he’s just being an ass for the sake of it, or it could be he’s just the village idiot and means it. He takes one last bite of his breakfast and chews, his blue eyes travelling to the mug with the intention of practically ravishing the thing as much as possible before getting out of there.

It's late morning, most people have had their breakfast and departed already. Teallan had too much to do early on, so her breakfast is now before it's bad to taming kidlets. She's seated nearby to Bowen and both have meals. She also has a clipboard and writing utensil, but those are left be at the moment while she eats. Well, eats and stares at Bowen. "I see. Sounds to me like you just don't care about the people around you."

Cheusia's arrival is a quiet affair, only the click of her boots upon the ground announce her entrance. The Healer is walking with a confident stride, grey eyes focused as she starts towards the food tables. Only, someone in the 'Caverns gives her a brief pause in which she looks in their direction. A certain tanner. And then, she continues on her path, fetching a small plate and a mug of Klah before she makes her way over to where he sits. Both items are situated on the table before she leans in to place a kiss on the tanner's cheek. "Morning, Bo. Are you working today?" Then, Teallan is considered with a careful look before she smiles. "Good morning."

The man’s blue eyes don’t move from the mug as he swallows that bite, both literally and figuratively, but the tension in his frame increases as what he perceives as badgering increases. To her comment, Bowen merely grunts a little, before finally, “Sounds ta me,” long pause, “like yer a—“ and whatever he was about to say to Teallan is cut off with Che’s arrival, her plate and drink specifically, which gets a glance as it shows up first, and then his face turns and his blue eyes settle on the Journeywoman Healer properly. A smile tugs his lips up gently, made warmer for the look in his eyes at seeing Cheusia, but otherwise a simple, soft affair for this usually stoic man. He is moving his hat away to the other side of his plate to give her more room as he thinks her leaning in is to sit down, “G’mornin’ Che,” his timbre a warm rumble from his chest, “Ayup, workin’. Yerself?” and when he gets that kiss to his cheek, another smile appears, kicked up a little sunnier for the public display of affection. Though, he clears his throat and there’s a slightly rosier hue to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. Politely getting to his feet then, he uses his thick hand to brush off the seat for her and makes a little gesture at it. Not quite a gallant sweeping bow or anything, but it’s clear this man has been brought up with some manners.

Eyes widen somewhat at the imagined things Bowen must have been about to say. Likely Teallan can fufill a number of ideas, some of which he himself may not have thought of. The joys of being a Harper. She does glance to Cheusia and offers the healer a quick nod. Conversation cut short by the arrival, she's able to offer focus to her meal and begins devouring what remains in a fairly short order.

Cheusia gives Bowen a curious look, "she's a what?" Though her tone is teasing she smiles at the tanner brightly for the smiles he gives and looking entirely pleased for that rosy hue to his cheeks. "Same. Taking a break right now, I should be off a bit earlier today, though." The chair is given a curious look as he cleans it off and she smiles wider before settling down. "You're so sweet." Yep. She's saying it more, like she said she would. And then, she considers the Harper with a curious look. "How are you doing on your way to becoming a Journeyman?"

With his attention focused either on his plate, his drink or Che, Bowen misses the wide-eyed look from Teallan and one can be pretty certain that her imagination is probably a lot broader on how he would have finished that sentence compared to what was probably coming to mind for the simple tanner. It is Che’s question for him to elaborate that has the man going still and quiet once more. Only the gaze of his blue eyes move, directed from the table to her face once more. Cue another deer-in-headlights look. This would be a Twix moment for sure, if Twix’s existed here. Or headlights for that matter. His eyes blink several times, but slowly, not quite in rapid succession. “A … girl,” comes his answer finally, lamely, for lack of thinking of something better and not having the time to do so, well, time for him, which probably would have taken several hours. Then his expression clears and he nods, “I got a coupla folks ta see ‘bout th’ weyr t’day fer leather items whut need measurin’. I’ll stop by in between an’ see if’n yer ready t’get off.” Throat clearing again, “t’leave that is.” As she settles down on the chair, he retakes his own seat and seems to slow down his eating just a smidge, though he hadn’t really sped it up a lot before, and doesn’t really acknowledge the ‘sweet’ comment other than just one of his faint smiles.

For a fortune, Teallan manages not to say anything in response to what Bowen's come up with. It's likely best for all as she might have voiced some of her own ideas, making things uncomfortable for all. Her plate near finished, she pauses to sip at her klah for a time and proffer a slight shrug to Cheusia. "I couldn't really say. I've been too busy helping fill in Uveline's position until the Hall sends a replacement to work on any projects of my own."

"She is." Che agrees with a soft chuckle, scooting her chair closer to the tanner's before beginning to pick at the food on her plate and only taking the smallest of bites. "Mm. Alright. You'll know where to find me." Because she really leave the Infirmary for the day without him, after all. She leans against him for a brief moment, a small display of affection before sitting up straight and continuing to nibble. "Oh. That's unfortunate. I am sorry to hear about it. And I'm surprised they are taking so long to find a replacement or at least… To send one. Who knows, maybe this may count for something on your part?" Another smile is given to the Apprentice, this one a touch more sympathetic.

Not knowing who Uveline is, or for that matter, who Teallan is, Bowen makes no comment to the apprentice harper’s situation, just continuing to eat quietly, slowly. He had gotten a decent portion of it eaten already, truth be told, so there’s not much left. He nods a little, not seeming visibly upset that she left the Infirmary without him, and perhaps indication that he doesn’t really expect her to be chained to him or anything 100 percent of the time, just as much as is practically possible for them both while still getting duties and personal business done. He doesn’t mind being leaned against, and as stocky as he is, he doesn’t budge with it either. But as he finishes his last bite and sets his eating utensil back down, he leans back against his chair and puts a mildly possessive arm across the back of Che’s chair as he flicks his gaze between the two crafter women during their conversation. Lifting his mug to his lips with his free hand, his blue eyes settle on Che’s plate a moment, or more specifically, how she is picking at it, but doesn’t comment. Well, not on that itself. He does ask Che quietly, “Wouldja like me t’walk ya back when yer done?”

"It's… difficult to get word places sometimes," Teallan says briefly, brow furrowing somewhat. She finishes her klah and her meal, stacking mug and utensils upon the plate proper. "All I can figure is they yet have no one to spare and, well…" Shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "Maybe you're right. They could just be waiting to see how I'm doing in the role." A glance about the caverns and she gets to her feet, tucking clipboard into satchel. "Speaking of, the kids are likely done with their morning chores."

Cheusia settles back into her chair as Bowen's arm comes around it, more at ease now as she continues to pick little portions of her food and nibble from there. "Oh. Sure… If it wouldn't take too much of your time for when you have to work." There's a glance to Teallan and then she nods. "It is… We do need a better way to send the word around. Can't always send a dragonrider away to do that. I sincerely hope that they're seeing if you're capable." And when the apprentice stands, the woman nods. "Have fun with the children. Hopefully they'll have settled down after doing chores."

See? This is an easy place for Bowen to be. Letting the women chit-chat about … whatever … and he eats, or drinks, or both. No expectations. Bump on a log. Nearly. “Not gonna be a problem,” he comments softly to Che’s initial statement, and then lapses silent once more as she resumes her conversation with the other woman at the table. The fingers of his hand gently stroke her shoulder as she settles back, but otherwise he is unmoving and seems slower than usual for him. When Teallan stands and gathers her stuff, however, Bowen dips his head at her slightly, in lieu of actually tipping his hat, which he’s not wearing at the moment.

"I've been making trips out when I can to the riverside and all, hoping maybe I can find a firelizard egg of my own." Teallan rolls shoulders in a small shrug. "I know it's a silly idea and maybe the kids are rubbing off on me, but I'm certain if I had one, communication would be so much easier." If she could train it, of course. Satchel is shouldered and she scoops up her dity dishes and the like to return them to the kitchens. "Some of them actually get riled up after chores. It's always interesting." There's a puzzled glance to Bowen until she realizes what movement the head-tip is in mimicry of and she gives a nod to both. "Have a good afternoon."

Cheusia smiles faintly at the feel of Bowen's fingers, taking another bite from the food on her plate and slowly, but surely, finishing off the food. And since Teallan is leaving, her free hand slowly comes to rest on the tanner's leg. "I hope you find one. Good luck and enjoy your time with the kids." Then, more food has her attention for a brief moment. "How're you feeling Bo?" Her question is soft, so only the tanner may hear it.

The comment about Teallan going out to the river gets Bowen’s attention sharply and he frowns a little, but doesn’t comment. For all he knows she has a proper escort with her when she goes, and he’d just as soon not ask and potentially find out she doesn’t. Ignorance is bliss in this case, for this man anyway. He stretches his legs out a little under the table as Cheusia puts her hand on one of them, adopting a slightly more lounging pose as Teallan starts to make her departure. “Likewise, ‘pprentice,” he states congenially. He continues to lightly stroke Che’s shoulder with his hand as she eats, but not really hurrying her and not really trying to interrupt and delay her eating either. “Mmm. Good,” he murmurs in reply to Che, then leans over to give her a light, chaste kiss on the lips whenever the opportunity presents itself in between bites of food. Then leans back again, “Yerself? Didja sleep well?” A sly lazy smile appears, almost smug-like, and then he remembers himself and clears his throat a little, sipping more of his klah.

With goodbyes said and done, pleasantries aside, Teallan disappears into the kitchens to drop off the dirty vessels before she's off and about. On the way to gather up kidlets for the afternoon lessons.

Cheusia gives his leg a gentle squeeze and then takes to eating a bit more of the food that small little bites, if only because she has just noticed her hunger has returned. "Mm. Good." She laughs softly and returns the kiss with a bright smile forming in what could be considered a permanent manner. "Oooh. I'm lovely. I slept really well." Laughter continues as she catches that smile. "I like seeing that smile on you. Its different… But it fits."

“Good,” Bowen comments softly to her ‘good’. They’re just all good all around. Apparently. He lets her eat without bothering her with more affection for the time being, seeing how she picks at it and wanting to make sure she has her fill. “Lov’ly, ayup. Y’are.” Because, it’s rare that Bowen thinks to compliment a woman on his own initiative, so when he’s the pitch, he’ll take it. A goofy grin reappears when she talks of his smile and there comes a little chuckle before he buries it in the mug, muttering something about women and their wiles, but not at all put off by it in the least. Another stroke of his hand on her shoulder and after setting his mug down again, he offers quietly, “Glad ya slept well.” Then he lapses thoughtfully quiet.

Cheusia isn't normally such a picky eater, but today she is. Cheeks flush a dark shade at his words before she laughs, "you're sweet…" Is repeated softly, with a hint of shyness to it before he is hiding his chuckle and his commentary in the mug. More laughter follows and she shifts to lean against him once more. "Me too. Did you sleep well? Oh… I was going to talk to the Headwoman about getting a room."

There’s that ‘sweet’ again, which is infinitely more pleasant to ‘rude’, ‘unfeeling’, ‘brute’, and ‘idiot’. If Che is feeling good about the day, she’s not the only one. The tanner seems to be in a much better mood, too, since Che arrived. It was looking like it might be a lousy day what with the harper starting to badger him, and then his Sunshine Herself showed up. Yep, looking like a good day, indeed. The tanner smiles again as she leans into him, coming out of his thoughtful reverie a moment before her words soak in and he is choking on his klah for a spell. That doesn’t bode well. Or maybe … he remembers the night’s ongoings and wipes his face on his sleeve, the other hand, not the hand that is stroking her shoulder. He’s definitely not sure this is a good thing or a bad thing yet, so he stares at what little remains on his klah. “Slept alright, I reckon,” he finally says to his mug, “Room, eh?” Oddly enough, the stroking of her shoulder doesn’t stop. He’s on automatic pilot there.

One could only imagine how the day would be going for the tanner if Che didn't show up. So it is likely a good thing she decided to take her break outside of the Infirmary. The choking is given a surprised look and there's a tenseness as she preps to help him, but, he recovers and she relaxes and slowly returns to her food, all while grey eyes watch him. "Ah. Wish you could've slept better." And then, she nods. "Yeah. Decided I kind've want the privacy… And, I think I may be entitled to one being a Journeyman. Figured I'd ask to be sure." Nope, there's no invitation for the tanner to come live with her.

“It don’t matter none,” Bowen says to her on his sleeping, “as long as yerself was comf’r’ble,” perhaps indicating that he was more interested in making sure she had enough room considering his stockiness than in his own comfort, and thereby sacrificing as good a night’s sleep as he might have had otherwise. A more sensible man would have just lied and said he slept with an angel and therefore was as comfortable as a cloud, or something more poetic, but Bo is unquestionably honest and forthright, rarely sugarcoating things, even when it would really be in his best interest to do so. He lifts his blue eyed gaze from his mug to her face and nods, “Reckon that makes sense. Journeymen should. If ya get it, I’ll help ya move in yer things.” A stocky man like Bo would be good for doing that, particularly any furniture. After a pause, he says softly, “How much … privacy are ya lookin’ fer?” But drains the last of his klah right after seeing it, hopefully hiding most of that expression that hopes against her wanting privacy away from him, but conceding he understands if she does. He can be hard to get along with and he knows it.

"Mm. I hate to make you feel less comfortable… But I did sleep well." Which, could be a good thing. Or a bad thing, depending on how heavily her own comfort weighs in her mind. Che tilts her head slightly, considering the tanner with her grey eyes before taking a bit more food into her mouth. "Thank you. I don't have too many things to move…" She quiets to consider him before smiling wider. "Privacy from other people that are not a certain tanner who I'd like to come over as often as he pleases."

Bowen considers the first statement for a moment, lifting that hand from her shoulder to brush his fingers lightly against her temple. He’s careful not to mess up the braid, assuming she’s wearing it like that again today. Just a light brush against the surface and a husky comment, “Well, j’st so happens I was wonderin’ ‘bout movin’ ‘r cots togeth’r like ya suggested that one night, if it would help ya sleep bett’r,” that is, help her sleep better knowing that he’s not so much on the edge of the cot as keeping him largely awake. He lets his hand drop to the back of her neck, loosely rubbing in massage form without actually putting any firm grip to it to warrant a legitimate massage. His eyes remain on her face though, seeking her own gaze before nodding a little to her statement on moving, and then grinning like a fool at her comment on privacy. With that, any response he makes is wrapped up in the affectionate kiss he leans to give her against her lips, soft, slow, tender. Passionless, perhaps, but loving.

Cheusia closes her eyes briefly as his fingers brush against her temple, letting out a soft sigh. "We could do that… I'd sleep better knowing you were sleeping good, too. That is, if you'll feel comfortable with doing that." Her head tilts slightly as his hand moves to rest on her neck and then she moves to clear her plate with a few more bites and lingering in silence for a good moment before grey eyes seek blue ones and smiling as she notices that grin on his lips. The kiss is returned gingerly, soft, gentle and loving all in one.

Slowly concluding the kiss with a smaller, lighter one, as if sealing it, Bowen leans back and gives her her personal space back, at least in every way but that hand resting at the nape of her neck. “I’d like it,” he says simply, nothing flowery or poetic, no expanding thoughts or pontification. Just: ‘yes, let’s shove our cots together. Less waking up with a crick in my neck that way, and I still get to hold you’. Then he slides his hand down her back and to the back of her chair once more, where his fingers curl around that arm and stroke gently. “So, yer gonna let me know whut th’ Headwoman says ‘bout ya gettin’ yer own room?” he asks, looking at his empty dishes on the table.

Cheusia smiles and turns attention back to her food, easily accepting the fact that he pulls away to give her more space. "We'll do that, then." A deep breath its taken before the last bit of food is finished on her plate and then she leans in slightly to be closer to the tanner. "I'll let you know. As soon as I talk with her and if I get one… You'll be the first to know."

Bowen nods to the first statement, not seeming to need to comment there, and truth be told, he’s more interested in her chest as she takes that deep breath. He’s still just a guy. But when she leans more into him, he looks away, ahead of where they are sitting, which ends up mostly on empty tables at this late hour of the morning, though there are a few stragglers, just like themselves. He wraps that arm more around her shoulders as she leans in, and even if they weren’t seated on a bench or the ground or somewhere where he could tug her more right up into him, against his hip, he does take advantage of her leaning as much as possible, holding her as their chairs and positions allow. “Th’ first ta know,” he repeats, smiling softly, liking that and at the same time not sure he has a right to. His smile fades a little and he clears his throat, speaking in even softer tones than usual for him, not wanting it to carry to neighboring tables, “Che … yanno, I meant whut I said. I didn’t exactly answer yer questions proper, but I did mean it. Truth is … if ya wanna find happiness … with other men … well, no, I reckon I ain’t gonna like it one bit.” He turns his face to hers now, his blue eyes sober as he looks at her, “But I ain’t got no right ta keep ya from it, considering …” and he leaves the rest unsaid, thinking she knows what he is referring to. Hoping, anyway.

Cheusia rests against him, even if he's focusing on her chest for a moment. That doesn't seem to be noticed by the woman, she's too comfortable to be watching his every action. Or, maybe she just wants him looking at her… She scoots her chair as close at it will allow her to move it, getting as close as possible. The repeated statement gets a nod, reaffirming the statement before she tilts a look at him. "I didn't want you to like it… I wanted to see if you cared…" She admits, keeping her grey eyes focused on blue. "Wanted to know how you felt… And since you're telling me now. I'm not going to go to other men. I don't really want another man." These words are for his ears only, from how soft she speaks.

Bowen has no objections to her scooting closer; if anything, he helps by gripping the back of the chair and hauling her closer, just as soon as he figures out that’s what she’s trying to do. For all the glorious meaning behind those words, and the stone barriers around his heart being chipped away, he actually frowns a little, but he keeps her gaze as she explains, and then even a little after. Finally, a few heartbeats after her final words, he exhales and looks away, running a frustrated hand through his hair once and then looks back at her. He still keeps his other hand around the back of her chair, and then softly, very softly, his blue eyes plead with her, “Don’t test me, Che. I fail at everythin’ when it comes ta women. Ya want me ta be truthful with ya an’ no playin’ games, well, I’d like ta ask th’ same of ya yerself. Ya wanna know how I feel, at any time, all ya gotta do is ask. Direct-like. Don’t need no games no more than ya do yerself. I been done with that fer turns. Yeah?” His tone remains soft, not stern. He’s not lecturing her or berating her or criticizing her. If anything, the man sounds a little weary and frustrated, and he looks off again in the distance a moment, and then closes his eyes and moves to lean his head against hers, whispering, “I wanna do it right this time with ya, Che. I promise ta treat ya as good as I can, but I ain’t no good at readin’ inta things.” A lot of the reason communication went south with his wife and fast, “Ya gotta tell me what ya need and want … please. Ya want me ta tell ya how I feel, all ya gotta do is ask. All ya gotta do is ask…” And with this, he turns his head against hers and tries to meet her lips with his.

Cheusia is only trying to get close, and maybe even be a little more protected by the tanner. There's nothing more than that as she considers him with grey eyes, waiting for his response to what she's said and clearly expecting that pause before his answer. Though the hand running through his hair is unexpected and then she gives him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Bo. I didn't mean to test you… But you didn't really fail…" Well, not with how it followed, after. "No more games. No more tests… Just being honest." She promises, giving him an apologetic look for that frustrated look. Grey eyes close as she tilts her head to rest against his. "I won't play games… And just ask." She promises again, tilting to give him a look and smiling with an almost loving look. She tilts her head and gingerly brushes her lips against his. "You have to do the same… Just ask. For anything…"

It is well after that brush of lips before Bowen finally responds, and when he does, there is a smile in his blue eyes, “I didn’t fail, eh?” Though that seems to speak volumes more than the mere words he used to her questions. He nods a little and slides his arm from around her back to try and take the hand on her leg, “Deal,” to no more games and no more tests, and each agreeing to just ask and be direct and honest. A bit of something heavy lifts off his broad chest, but he doesn’t speak on it. Just looks at her empty plate and then his, and almost reluctantly saying, quietly, “I’ll walk with ya back ta th’ ‘firmary now, if ya like.”

Cheusia smiles brightly and shakes her head. "Nope. Far from it." She promises, giving him a curious look before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Good. We'll get on fine, then… The both of us." She is happy, visibly, and it shows in her eyes as well… Though it only partially fades when she looks to their plates. "Ah.. I suppose we've got to get to work…" She sighs, reluctantly pushing up to her feet.

If allowed, Bowen will lift her hand grasped by his now to brush against his lips before rising to his feet, “Then there’s hope fer me yet,” on failing or not failing. He smiles to her, warm and inspired with hope, “Reckon we will,” to her second comment. And then finally he steps out and away with his free hand moving to the back of her chair to pull it out for her and guide her to her feet in gentlemanly fashion. “Th’ sooner we get back t’work, th’ sooner th’ day will end an’ we can get back t’play,” this stated, Bo’s lips quirk into a sly, playful smirk and he winks at her.

Cheusia giggles softly and smiles, "mm. There's always been hope for you." Her smile grows wider and she slowly gets to her feet once he pulls out her chair and guides her up. "This is very true." Laughter continues, mischievous. "And what exactly will we be playing?"

Her initial comment has Bowen smiling a little more, with it reaching his eyes as he looks at her. And then with her last the smile breaks into a goofy, somewhat sheepish and amused chuckle, an extremely rare thing for him indeed. Rather than give her his arm, he seems content to maintain the hand-holding contact as he steps back and allows her space to come into the aisle between tables with him before making his way to the exit, “Oh, I dunno. I reckon we’ll think o’sumpthin’. Mebbe hide’n seek,” pause, “Under da covers.”

Laughter flows freely at his chuckle, unrestrained and relaxed around the man. The hand-holding is much more intimate than holding his arm and Che laces her fingers with his to likely prevent him from bailing if he should decide to. She moves easily out into the aisles and starts towards the exit with him. "Oh really? I think hide and seek sounds wonderful…" A suggestive look is sent his way with a teasing little smile.

Closing Credits Theme Music: Natasha Bedingfield "Pocket Full Of Sunshine"

As sung by Cheusia's PB, just for bonus awesomesauce and cuteness: Easy A Movie Clip "Pocket Full Of Sunshine" Official (HD)

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