Bowen.jpg Cheusia.jpg

Date: 11/5/10 (IC: Following Candy For The Injured)
Location: EW: Cheusia's Quarters
Synopsis: Bowen puts the idea of a trip to Southern Hold to Cheusia over a 'take-home' dinner in her quarters, and the discussion inevitably leads to meeting each other's family, and starting one of their own. It's impossible right? Well… maybe not anymore.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: Bowen

The stop at the kitchen has Che carrying a basket of good, having insisted on being the one carrying it being that Bowen did carry a boy to her Infirmary, so she carries the food to the room. It doesn't take her too long to set up the bed for them to sit on and eat from (she's not one of those people who frets about such things) and the drinks are settled on the shelving above the headboard. She settles not too long after, boots kicked off into some corner while she makes herself comfortable. "That was a surprise today… But, I'm happy to see that he was smiling towards the end. Candy normally does that… I like making 'em smile after, lets me know that they're still okay."

While Cheusia is setting up their dining-in situation, Bowen is getting a little more comfortable himself, unlacing his boots and setting them more neatly tucked away in some corner somewhere, and the hat is put on the top of one of the trunks. The fool hasn’t gotten around to putting that peg in the wall to hang cloaks and hats on, yet… but he’s been a little preoccupied lately. He gathers up his loose-fitting drawstring pants that he wears to bed, and sets them and a towel on top of the trunk next to his hat, presumably so he can go get a bath later when they’re done eating. Assuming his plans don’t go awry otherwise. “Wuz a su’prise t’ alla us, too. I reckon he scared us more’n he wuz really hurt. Passin’ out like dat … well,” he draws, “didn’t know whut t’think.” Then he chuckles softly, not mockingly as much as just amused, thinking of the number of times he got himself hurt as a child, and if he passed out from the pain every time, people would have thought he was narcoleptic or something. But … not everyone has Bo’s threshold for pain, he supposes. He finally settles on the bed, making himself comfortable near both Che and the basket of food and his drink so that he doesn’t have to stretch or lean too far for any of the above. Propped up on his elbow, he grabs his drink with his other hand and brings it to his lips, looking at Che over the rim as he sips and then murmurs, “Ya got dat magic cure, Che. I bet he’d smile atchu b’fore long whether ya had candy ‘r not. Only reason he didn’t right off t’day wuz likely cuz he thought he was in a heap a’ trouble, seein’ me.” He puts the mug back up on the shelf and adds, pride in his voice, “Yer good at whutchu do, Darlin’. No ‘un can argue dat. I’m glad ya were there t’day.”

"I can imagine… You're all working and then all of a sudden there's all this noise and he's going down. He was doing something he shouldn't have been, from the sounds of it." Che notes softly, "but, understandable. Something that hot on you and them being stabbed, most people faint so they don't feel the pain anymore…" She trails off and gives him a curious look, "nah. Most kids are normally cared of Healers. I try to be as nice as possible and make 'em happy." She pauses and reaches for some food, "kids are sometimes easier to deal with than adults. I like kids… That are well behaved." Her cheeks turn a light shade at his compliments before she nibbles on the meatroll in her hands. "Thanks… I try my hardest. I'm glad I was there, too."

“Ayup,” Bo says on the confusion and chaos when the accident happened, “’Course, none o’ th’ oth’r ‘pprentices ‘re gonna own up t’ playin’ ‘round th’ vat with ‘im. Reckon we’ll figure it out b’fore long. Kids like dat … if their guilty conscience don’t get ‘em t’ own up t’ it in time, ya can generally figure it out from th’ looks th’ others are givin’ ‘im.” Bowen seems more amused at it than upset. He reaches in for a meatroll for himself, nodding a little, “I used t’be scared o’ Healers, too. ‘Ntil I met this ‘un. Very sweet, Healer, she is.” He winks at her, one corner of his mouth drawn up in a smile. “Sweeter ev’n than th’ candy she hands out t’youngin’s.” He takes a bite, chewing quietly as he listens and then nods, swallowing before saying, “Reckon so, a’ times,” on kids sometimes being easier to deal with than adults. Then he offers a deep rumble of a chuckle, “I’m mighty thankful ya didn’t know me growin’ up, then, Che. Don’t think I’ve ev’r behaved well.” Which isn’t entirely true, though he thinks it earnestly on account that his mother was a shrew and a mother hen. He had some peace when he was alone with his father, and listened well to the man, at least. But all such talk has put him on a mind of Southern and he takes another bite of his meatroll and swallows before adding, “Been asked t’go back t’Southern fer a spell, actually, Che. It’d be a long trip, though, I reckon. If ya think ya could get yer shifts covered ‘ere, I’d really like it if ya would come with me … we could make a stop in at Landin’ if ya like, too, along the way.” Great. He meets her Dad. She meets his family. Where’s the whiskey?

Cheusia nods, "they'll admit to it, eventually. Hope they don't get into too much trouble, but… They were playing around where they shouldn't have been playing." She muses softly, nibbling more on her meatroll before sneaking another look at him. "You're sweet, love." She'd lean over and kiss him, but she's putting more food in her mouth. "Nah. I'm sure you were good. I'm sure I was a right menace. I never acted like a girl." But there's no further elaboration on that. The mention of the trip is given a thoughtful silence before she nods. "I'd love to go. I'll get someone to cover.. Shouldn't be too much of a problem." There's a pause and she gives him a small little look. "You want to meet my father?"

Bowen nods a bit in companionable silence as he eats and she talks of the other boy playing with Willum finally owning up to it, and grins a little at the thought of a miniature Che as a “menace”, not really picturing it. But then, the man is so smitten, he can’t right picture Che doing anything terribly wrong. As for the trip and meeting her father … want is a strong term in this context. Bowen doesn’t particularly want to meet Che’s father, unless it’s important to her, that is. So, how does the man answer? Especially when he promised to always be honest with her … He takes his time mulling this one over, chewing some more on the meatroll and then sipping his drink and setting it back up on the shelf before putting it earnestly out there, “If he’s import’nt to ya Che, then I figure he’s import’nt ta me, too. If ya want me t’meet ‘im since we’re already gonna be passin’ through more ‘r less, then I’ll do it … fer you.” He hesitates and then says, “If ya’d ruth’r j’st drop in on ‘im while we’re restin’ up th’ runners an’ me not meet ‘em, then I’ll stay outta yer way, Baby.”

Cheusia remains in silence as he takes his time to answer, reaching over for a few more bits of food and nibbling on various things. She's not really after a certain taste at the moment. "Nn. Don't know. Want his approval and all, but… That's about it. He's… Hard to please. Just from rumors I heard. Surprised I didn't punch him in the face when I met him. But, really had no reason to other than just being mildly bitter. Proved I wasn't a waste by being a Journeyman… So." She shrug, "if you want to, I'm not going to stop you. But… I'm okay with you not ever really meeting him. You'll probably never meet my mother. Her husband… Yeah." She shrugs and smiles cheerfully. "Doesn't entirely matter to me either way."

Bowen seems to take all that at face value and doesn’t think she’s actually ashamed of him to a degree she’d not want him to meet her father. He still tries not to look too relieved, though, which isn’t hard to do since he normally wears that stoic look of indifference anyway. “Aw-right,” he drawls in that same husky voice, “We’ll j’st stay long ‘nough t’tend t’th’ runners an’ repair anythin’ whut broke ‘long th’ way then.” His smile isn’t cheerful, but his smiles rarely are. He does smile at least. There’s a pause as he picks up another meatroll, “Didja really come close t’hittin’ ‘im?” Because if easy-going Che came close to decking the man, Bo’s wondering if he isn’t going to lay him out before they even get a chance to shake hands. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t meet him.

Cheusia is fare from ashamed of the man. But there's the weird sense of fear of her father hating the man she loves. More of the need for approval, but if it comes to that… Bowen is likely to win out. "Sounds good." She leans over and gives him a gentle pat. "I thought he was some prick who slept with my mother and broke her heart when he found out she was pregnant. One night thing and all that, almost impossible usually. Lucky me." She shrugs and smiles, "but, he's decent. We respect one another just fine."

He finishes up that meatroll and chews quickly as he listens, nodding a bit as he swallows. If allowed, when she pats him, Bowen will try to grasp her hand and bring her fingers up to his lips for a quick kiss, and then lets them go. Her talk of one-night flings ending with unanticipated pregnancies has him thinking of his wife again, and he sobers a little, without exactly looking melancholy. It was all unfortunate, and he loved his wife, no matter what happened between them, but he had Che now, and there was less and less to be actually melancholy over the affair as his relationship with the Healer continues to progress. He sips his beverage before talking again, “Lucky us both,” that the one and a million shot scored a goal, so to speak, and Che was brought into the world. He smiles at her then, more softly, and reaches over the corner of the basket with the intention of putting his hand on her thigh and knee if possible, stroking tenderly. “Ya brought me outta m’dark cell, my little sweet mender,” not that there’s still not a lot of work to do on Bowen, “an’ I don’t rightly know where I’d be without ya.” Well, at least probably not decking would-be friends for just teasing her or looking at her.

Cheusia smiles fondly at the kiss to her fingers, allowing her hand to drift away once they are released. She considers him for a long moment before her lips curl into a cheerful grin. "Lucky us." She agrees, her gaze slowly drifting away from him to consider elsewhere, lost in her thoughts for a long moment before turning her gaze to him again. "I'm glad I brought you out, Bowen. Because there was a sweet loving and wonderful man hidden in there." She shifts, carefully abandoning the food to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Don't know where I'd be without you, either." Probably in tears after the whole bridge incident and locked up in the Infirmary most hours of the day.

Her attention drawn away for a time has him momentarily concerned and he lets it show, though it fades when she talks of him being wonderful, and he has the humility to turn a slightly more rosy hue to it. He grins faintly, “Shucks, Darlin’,” he begins in his drawl and then stops, not really knowing what else to say, so he just leaves it at that. Besides, she’s kissing him and that’s MUCH better than talking any day, by Bo’s estimation. He returns the gentle kiss with a tender one of his own, chaste and sweet, and shifting a little more to be closer without bumping into the basket. “Y’d be doin’ j’st fine, I reckon,” he says softly, just a bit above a whisper, before he settles more onto his back and, with his other arm now free, reaches to try and pull her in closer to him. He was mostly done eating anyway. Well, eating food.

Cheusia smiles at the color he takes, looking quite pleased with that. The kisses remain sweet and short and she leans against him when he pulls her in. "Nah… I'd be how I used to be. Locked up in my studies and never really straying away from that." She peeks at him and smiles. "You've saved me from so many different things."

Once she is settled a little more against him, Bowen lifts a hand to brush lightly through her hair at her temple. He grins ruefully at that, “Somehow, I doubt it,” seeing her on that bridge that day, looking for new experiences and perhaps excitement. “But I ain’t gonna argue,” he continues, “Not ‘less ya wanna arm wrestle me fer it.” He smirks and winks, sinking back a little more into the pillow, and adding, “J’st seein’ ta m’duty, ma’am.” And then he exhales softly, still smiling, but his eyes taking on a more serious quality, “I love ya. M’glad t’keep ya safe an’ happy.” Beat pause, “Annnn’ stock’d full of dyed leather pouches.” He grins again.

Cheusia lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Nope. That was my last shot at changing. But then you were there…" She laughs and shifts so that she may slip her arms around him. "You do a fine job. I love you. And the pouches are amazing."

Bowen smiles a little more at hearing that laughter, his hands move to stroke up and down her back in a loving manner, “But then I wuz there,” he repeats, going through the memory in his head and groaning a little before chuckling, and closing his eyes, “An’ bein’ awful forward an’ improp’r an’ obscene.” He rubs her back again, then lifts his head to lean in for a tender kiss to her lips, “Have I made up fer it at all?”

Cheusia peeks up at him, curiously. "I like you being forward. I don't think you were improper and obscene, however." She smiles and returns the tender kiss with a loving smile forming. "Never was anything to make up for… How're you feelin', though?"

Chuckling softly, Bowen murmurs after a short pause, “Ayup, cuz dat’ll be a good story fer th’ grandkids one day … how grandpa made ‘is move on grandma by kissin’ ‘er an’ rubbin’ up ‘gainst her on some stone bridge.” The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes what he’s saying, a rare thing for Bo to be sure, and it sobers him slowly until his fond rubbing of her back stops altogether. “I …” he starts and then stops. After another moment his smile slowly reappears, but it touches his eyes, genuine and deep with meaning and sincerity as he adds, “Nev’r bett’r,” to answer her question. There’s a little pause and he continues, “Che … ya say I ain’t broken … an’ I ain’t no Healer, so, I reckon I ain’t, but I sure dun felt broken fer th’ last few turns … until I met you. When I saw ya with dat boy t’day …” his adam’s apple moves as he swallows a moment, but it’s more to try to contain the emotions welling up inside him than out of nervousness, “ … I dunno … j’st … I felt m’self wishin’ he wuz our boy. Yers an’ mine.” Which might sound awful considering how hurt he got, but that’s not really how Bo meant it. “So, I guess, whut I’m sayin’ is … if there’s ev’r gonna be a chance fer it … I can’t think of a bett’r woman I’d want t’be th’ muth’r of m’children.” Which could be a proposal. The big guy isn’t the most articulate. Heck, he’s probably the least articulate guy on the planet.

Cheusia laughs softly, "could always romanticizes it…" She muses, though she's trailing off as she realizes what exactly her said. Grey eyes are staring at him for a long moment, perhaps in anticipation of a panic attack. Though she slowly relaxes once he doesn't go into that phase. The smile is slowly returned, but she doesn't speak until he's all done speaking and saying everything on his mind. "Bo.." Her arms tighten around him and that smile of hers grows a little wider as she makes to hide her face from view. "I want to be the mother of your children."

Bowen rumbles an approving and grateful, “Mmmm,” in his chest to her words, and slides his hands up her back to her shoulders and then reaches to try and turn her face to look at him once more. If successful, he’ll lean up and to her lips, seeking a slow and tender kiss that grows with desire and greater passion with each passing moment.

Cheusia is easily turned to look at him, grey eyes seeking his for a moment before she sinks into that kiss. Her arms slip around his neck to draw him in closer with no intention of releasing him any time soon.

Closing Credits Theme Music: Kenny Chesney - "You Save Me"

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