Her fingers drifted to his face and seemed to caress the flesh before they
settled on the contact points. When his eyes closed, she closed her own
and concentrated on the mindmeld. Through it, she offered him her
thoughts, and he could see the strength of her feelings for him.
He let his mind completely relax, welcoming her to touch his mind as intimately as
he had welcomed her to touch his body. The feeling, the bonding, was easily as
intense, and all the more enjoyable. They lay that way for hours, and even fell
asleep with their minds fully in contact.
(ooc: since the gm seems to be moving on,...)
The two of them rose early, dressed and headed to one of the major
eateries on Spacedock. The handful of reporters staking out the area
immediately noticed the pair. Some simply noted the event, one ran off to
call his editor.
Carrhae ordered her normal breakfast. At one point during breakfast,
knowing that they were being observed, she reached out and covered Matt's
hand with her own.
>From the corner of her eye she could see a second reporter quickly leave
the scene.
The coffee and western omellet with tobacco sauce seemed particulary delicious that
morning. But then, it was, as likely as not, the combination of the company he was
keeping and the feeling that he had somehow turned exhibitionist.
Near the end of breakfast, an idea overtook him that he ignored at first, since he
thought it was likely to be simply because of the undue attention being payed them.
After a few moments, though, he realized the intention was genuine, and not media
driven.
Matt wore a couple of different rings. One was a tri-colored band on his left
pinkie, that been his wedding ring with Kathleen, the young mortal in early
Twentieth Century Ireland. One was on right index finger a very, very old silver
Celtic knot, the sign of an on-again off-again marriage that had not been on-again
for several hundred years, and would not be again, though he'd had trouble ridding
himself of the band since he'd worn it nearly a millenium now.
The remaining band, though, was a claddagh, on his right pinkie, that he'd bought a
long time ago intending to give it as a gift to a woman who had chosen that
unfortunate timing to prove herself unworthy of the gift, so he'd kept it.
Now, he slid it off his finger and gently took the hand covering his. "May I?" he
asked her.
(eh?)
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the commbadge interrupted him.
</\> "Basco to Brennan. I am sorry to bother you before you headed in for
rounds, but I just had a strange visit from Admiral Lasiter. He wants to see
you and I up in his office when you get in this morning. He was acting,
well... pre-occupied would be about right... I thought that you would want to
know asap."
Matt frowned. That was odd. "Thank you, Mary," he replied. "Can you meet me there
in five minutes?"
"No problem, boss. Basco out."
Matt looked to Carrhae. "Ummm...."
(eh?)
