Summerisle

(1101 a.c.)

In the morning in Ireland, Beatrice had found Morgan awake, and lightly playing his guitar just outside. He had smiled at her arrival, and whipped up a large breakfast, having risen early to drive out and fetch enough groceries for a steak and eggs and mushroom breakfast. He waited for her to settled a few things, and out in he yard, he Trumped them back to the Castle. They appeared in his chambers, which was a suite of rooms, one of them dedicated to a variety of instruments, including an upright piano.

Beatrice greeted him with a brilliant smile and a hug; she was bright and cheerful, if a bit disheveled from sleeping, and she'd changed out of her sundress and into jeans and a green blouse. There wasn't much to do after breakfast, although she did take a few minutes to pack a duffle bag that looked like it had seen about as much excitement as her typewriter with clothes and a few personal items. She explained, rather wryly, that it had been a bit hard to pack the first time with a horse demanding immediate attention on the front lawn.

In the castle - in his rooms - she looked around curiously, though she didn't stray from his side.

"Home at last. Shall we take that morning ride?" Morgan smiled, "You can meet Fiach then." He nodded, "Just let me change clothes, I freshened up, but I'd like to change..." He looked at her questioningly, "Did they get around to assigning you a room yet?"

"A ride sounds wonderful," Beatrice agreed. "I need to drop this off in my room; why don't I do that while you're changing and meet you in the library? I should probably pick up the mess I left..."

Morgan grinned, "Oh, the Library is probably cleaned up already, just drop off your bag. But yeah, I'll meet you in the library." He gave her a hug, nuzzled her gently, and kissed her lips lightly. "I won't be long..."

Beatrice smiled and touched his cheek affectionately. "You will probably beat me there... I'm still learning my way around this place."

He gave her the quick tour, all three rooms of the suite, with the music room last. The music room, as Morgan called it, had an Irish Pub feel to it, the only thing missing was the bar. He grinned as he brought her to the door, gave her another light kiss, and as she walked out of the room, he laughed and lightly patted her bottom.

She smiled and followed along, looking around with continuing curiousity. She managed to turn just slightly pink in the bedroom, but the color faded fairly quickly enough once they moved to another room. She paused for a moment after the kiss, to rest her forehead against his affectionately again, and then moved away. She turned quickly, with a faint squeak of surprise, when he patted her rear; then she realized what he'd done, and she laughed softly, blushing brightly.

After a moment's consideration, she set off down the hall, casting the occasional smile back over her shoulder at him until he shut the door.

Morgan smiled when she squeaked, and laughed with her when she did. It had been the spur of the moment, but it had been with the risk to get her to smile like that, free of worry. He waited until she was down the hall, grinning the few times she looked back, with her cheeks rosy. Morgan closed the door, and went to his chest of drawers and his closet, to see what he would wear for the ride.

In the end, he showed up outside the Library doors wearing a good pair of hiking boots, a pair of blue jeans which had long ago lost the fight to contain his knees, and a dark green t-shirt declaring 'Kiss Me, I'm Hibernian'. He checked inside the Library, found it empty, and then leaned against the wall in the hallway, waiting for Beatrice to arrive.

Beatrice arrived a few minutes later, hurrying a little. "Oh," she said when she saw him, "You haven't been waiting long, I hope... I got a little lost on the way back to my room." She sounded a little rueful.

Then she read his shirt and, grinning, followed the instructions. It was a light kiss, and accompanied by a bit of color in her cheeks again, but she caught his hand afterwards, lacing her fingers with his. "I think I'm ready," she added softly.

Morgan slipped his arms around her when she kissed him, and he held her there for a moment. "Me too... and Hello again." He smiled, "No, I did not wait long... and when I've nothing special to do, other than spend some time with you, waiting is easy." Morgan gave her hand a gently squeeze. "Now, I should explain about my big boy, Fiach...he's a warhorse, and still a bit -- high strung. He was with me through the war, an for him...this sitting around in the stables, waiting to be needed... well... he's not used it it yet."

Beatrice smiled and squeezed his hand gently in return. "So I'll be staying well back until he's calmed down a little," she suggested, "and we'll be after a long run once we're clear of town?"

Morgan nodded, "Yeah, that would be good. And I'll keep a bit of distance between us and you and Loyal. Fiach bites if he feels challenged or gets angry." He smiled, "But you have it right... yeah, once we're away from the Castle, he'll need to stretch his legs a bit. A run out to the beach... and then maybe... to my lands..."

"And they might surprise us yet," Beatrice said, smiling, "and get along without any trouble. Though I don't think we'd best chance it." She tugged at his hand gently. "I'm pretty sure I know the way to the stables from here..."

Morgan allowed her to lead him instead, smiling as she did so. "Oh, that they could. But better to be safe than sorry with Fiach. He's not used to having to play nice." He smiled, "What makes him sort of a pain, also makes him excellent in battle... he's saved me more than once." Morgan smiled, a bit thinly, but soon recovered his step. The war was still a fresh memory.

"It's good to have a friend like that," Beatrice said quietly. "I'm not sure about Loyal's history yet; he was Father's - I think I told you that already." She smiled a little. "The barn at home isn't completely destroyed; there's one good stall yet, just for him. I made sure of that, even when I was far too young to be out there with hammer and nails of an evening..." Her smile grew slightly. "When I was very small, I used to get pony rides from him, although Father never seemed too keen on that."

Morgan nodded, "Yeah, it is, the other question is whether or not it is good to need, such a friend." He smiled, and shrugged the philosophy away. "Yeah, Brand's old stallion. I will know him when I see him, though it was not like your Dad and I did a lot of riding around or anything, so I doubt Loyal will know me." Morgan smiled as she spoke of her childhood memories. "Well, you'll have all the pony rides you'd like now, and I am sure Loyal is just happy to be of service." He was quiet a moment, and squinted as they stepped out into the sunlight again. "Shadow lag... I've not been up this early in a bit..."

Beatrice laughed softly. "I think I've outgrown pony rides, but it is nice to have an old friend around." She looked at him with a smile as he squinted. "It's not that early, Morgan... I'm usually up about this time." She paused, thoughtfully. "Well, this time back home."

He nodded to a stablehand, "Alright, bring out my beast..."

"One thing at a time, I think," Beatrice said, smiling. "Once he's settled down a bit," she requested, "could you bring out Loyal, please?"

Fiach turned out to be a gorgeous Alter Real black stallion, who stepped with power and precision, and had a keen dislike for being disrespected by stablehands. He purposely knocked on over, evaded him grabbing his reins, and trotted over to Morgan tossing his head, and whickering a bit. "Calmly. We've company, not biting." He slipped Fiach a treat he produced from somewhere, and got a hold of his reins. "Alright, bring Loyal out..."

Beatrice watched the excitement with a sort of wary interest, casting the occasional worried glance at the stablehand until he stood up and brushed himself off. She nodded quiet agreement to Morgan's suggestion.

Loyal was a grey, his coat shining brightly in the sunlight. He moved quietly beside his stablehand, ears pricked as he looked around, and only dipped his head when Beatrice took the reins. She obediently scratched his neck, smiling. "So far, so good," she said, looking up to meet Morgan's eyes.

"Okay, no racing, not today...he'll make a lunge." Morgan smiled, "Go ahead and mount up. I will come after you." He saw Fiach stamping, and rubbed his nose, which the stallion pushed roughly against. "Once we're away, we'll make a run to the beach... and then south to my granted lands. Like you said, may as well have a look..." He smiled, and once she was mounted, he pulled himself up into the saddle as well. It was apparent that he knew Fiach well, and directed him with small touches or words. "Here we go..."

Beatrice mounted with easy grace, like she'd known how to ride for some time. She wasn't one of those riders that seemed born to the saddle, but she moved with Loyal's steps easily and gracefully. She barely touched the reins, only using them for the occasional course correction. "It's you that's leading, right? I don't know the way to the beach." She smiled a little wryly. "We'll keep back out of range of his heels..."

Morgan nodded, "Oh, right..." He smiled, "I'll lead the way... and good idea." He walked Fiach past her, to her left, with Fiach showing off as he went, his head held high. Morgan shook his head, "Alright showboater... can we go?"

He led the way at a canter, laughing as Fiach impatiently built up to that pace. He turned in the saddle to make certain Beatrice was following, and waved when he caught her eye. Morgan leaned down over Fiach's neck, likely speaking to his horse.

Loyal fell in behind, keeping a good steady horselength or two between himself and Fiach; Beatrice continued to ride with a loose rein, letting the rest of the group set the pace. She smiled and waved back when Morgan checked on her, and then turned to looking around at the scenery. If he looked back again, Morgan could see she had the same expression of curiousity on that she'd worn during their tour of the city. "Is it far?" she called up to him after a few minutes.

"No! Not far!" Morgan called back over his shoulder. "He wants to run...do think think you can keep an eye on us?" He turned and flashed her a bright smile.

Beatrice smiled back at him. "Oh, I think we can try... and if we fail, I do have your card. Go on!"

Morgan and Fiach broke into a gallop across the grass, making for the Forest, and the veering north. It was a bit before Fiach slowed, and Morgan waved at her from his back, slowing down so they could ride beside each other, but not too close.

"He needed that!" He grinned, "The beach is ahead... we'll ride along the ridge, and then turn towards my lands...I think..."

Beatrice and Loyal followed, and now she did pick up the reins, making sure they stayed behind and didn't challenge the black. She was smiling, and laughing a little, as she pulled up beside him. "That was fun!" she agreed. "If we don't find your lands, we will simply have to bring a map next time, and just enjoy the ride." She paused, and added in a more thoughtful tone, "When we stop, we probably ought to introduce the horses properly, now that some of the energy has been worked off..."

Morgan laughed with her and nodded, "It was fun. I know its south of roughly this point on the beach. Shouldn't be hard to spot a house..." He smiled, "Ah, I'm enjoying the ride already." Morgan agreed, "Yes, that might be a good idea... up ahead at the ridge, we'll stop for the view... a small break, and then we can head south."

When they reached the ridge, the view was breathtaking, Morgan smiled and dismounted. "Something, huh?"

Beatrice swung down to join him, her hand light on Loyal's reins as she took in the view. "It's gorgeous," she said. "Absolutely gorgeous." She stood quietly for a long while before she smiled again and turned to him.

Morgan slipped up behind her, and encircled her in his arms. "I'm told the house is not far. So that is one advantage to it, one selling point." He nuzzled her gently, "Do you like the beach? I bet I could conjure a suit you'd look smashing in..."

Beatrice smiled and leaned against him slightly. "I do like it. It's lovely." She laughed softly. "I bet you could..."

"I suppose we'd best introduce these two great beasts," she said, reaching up to scratch Loyal's neck affectionately.

He laughed and nodded, whistling for Fiach, and whispering to the stallion in Gaelic. "Alright, he's ready... and has agreed to no biting or fighting." Fiach's head pushed Morgan's shoulder, and the man sighed. "For now..."

Loyal lowered his head to Beatrice, who smiled and told him, "Play nice, please."

Then she looked at Morgan with a slightly self-conscious smile. "Loyal, this is Morgan, who I like very much, and his stallion Fiach." The grey bobbed his head a few times.

Fiach snorted, and Morgan cuffed him lightly. "This is Fiach... Fiach, this is Beatrice, and you know Loyal from the stables, by now." His head bobbed as well, and he pawed at the grass. Morgan sighed, "I think that's the best we can expect, Beatrice..." He produced and offered Loyal a cookie, giving one to Fiach with his other hand. He leaned towards Beatrice, as he did so, and kissed her lightly. "So far so good..."

Beatrice smiled and returned the kiss. "Well, it was worth a try... Should we continue on?" Her smile widened slightly. "If I thought these two would be after behaving without supervision today, I'd suggest the beach first..."

Morgan smiled in return, raising his eyebrows, "Well, Fiach is a big boy, and so is your Loyal." He eyed her speculatively, "And I can get a promise out of Fiach that he'll take seriously. They'd just have to keep their distance." He met her eyes, "I think a green two piece would be about right for you..." Morgan smirked, "Perhaps only a couple of napkins of cloth... but right."

Beatrice managed to blush and grin at once. "Something a little more than napkins, I think, but green two-pieces are fine."

Morgan chuckled, "So... what? Throw in a few sequins?" He sang a small song in Gaelic, that sounded suspiciously like a pub song. He pressed his hands together, and when he reached the end, pulled them apart. There was cloth and thin strings in his hands, the cloth matched Beatrice's eyes perfectly, and as requested; there was a little more cloth than just napkins... and the green sequins artfully looked like fish scales. "How's this?" He grinned.

Beatrice smiled, her blush unfaded, and reached out to take the bikini from his hands. "I'll have to be very specific with you, won't I?" she teased gently. "I think I like it." She playfully held up the top to her chest, the sunlight sparking bits of light in all directions from the sequins. "What do you think?"

Morgan grinned; he rather liked making her blush, there was no hiding it on skin so fair. He laughed, and replied casually. "Maybe. Left to my own devices, who knows what I'll come up with." He smiled as she held the bathing suit up to herself, and raised his eyebrows. "I think I''m looking at one mermaid I mean to catch in my net..."

He stepped over to Fiach for a moment, and seemed to dissolve into whispered discussion with his warhorse. The black stallion may have a sarcastic sounding snort. Morgan pushed his head away with a laugh, slipped Fiach a cookie, and then returned to Beatrice. "Well, he'll be good..." Morgan eyed her expectantly, "So you'll be changing, yes?"

Beatrice laughed softly. "Of course I'll be after changing." She made a circling gesture with one finger, smiling. Her cheeks were still pink. "Just as soon as you turn around. And don't you have a bathing suit to be conjuring yourself as well?"

Morgan grinned, and did a very sharp parade ground about face. As soon as he did so, he nodded. "Oh yes, I'll alter what I'm wearing..." Then he began to sing a bawdy section of 'Carmina Burana' in proper Latin. He cupped his hands together, until a small orb of light formed, a basic scrying tool... a Wizard's Eye... though Morgan hated calling it that. He blew his breath upon it at the end of the song, and whispered ordered in Gaelic. It flew up into the sky, perhaps at a height twice his own, and as if caught on the breeze wafted overhead... and over Beatrice, Loyal provided no protection from this curious magical 'Eye'.

He had to continue singing to maintain it, but he did so softly... however, it left him no room to change his clothes. But that could wait.

Beatrice was, in fact, using Loyal as a shield between herself and Morgan. Her blush had faded finally; from his mystical vantage point, Morgan got a nice look at her contemplating just how this bathing suit went together... and then taking off her shirt and bra (black, with just a modest touch of lace) and putting on the bikini top... and then into the bottoms. She cast an occasional glance over her shoulder and under Loyal's neck, checking that Morgan still had his back turned. She neatly folded her clothes and tucked them under her arm before she stepped back out and said, "I'm ready..."

Morgan ended the song abruptly, knowing the 'Eye' would simply fade, and turned to face Beatrice with an oddly appreciative look in his eye. He had yet to change his clothes, and when he saw her in the bikini, he stood silent for a moment, admiring what he saw...again...at least with his own eyes. He almost missed her words, and then smiled.

"I would say that you most certainly are..." He stripped off his t-shirt, which revealed the harper medallion that he wore around his neck on a heavy chain. Around his left wrist was a leather wristband he did not seem to mean to take off. He gestured and undid his boots, kicking them off, and tucking his socks into them. He sang quietly of the sea, and adjusted the length of his worn jeans until they became shorts just above the knee. They fit his hips loosely, as he wore no belt, and they rode low on his hips.

He piled her clothes atop his boots, which kept them relatively safe, and then gestured. "I'm ready too... he took her hand... there's a grassy path not far... good for our feet, and then --- beach!"

Beatrice managed somehow to not blush at his regard of her in the bikini. Morgan even caught the tail end of an appreciative look of her own as he pulled the shirt over his head.

She squeezed his hand gently and laughed at his enthusiasm. "Well, it's sure to not be coming to us, and I don't know the way - so lead on!"

Morgan led her along the edge, and then down a grass filled cut in the earth, that led down to the beach. Once there was sand under foot, he slowed down from a brisk jog, and walked with her down to the water, holding her hand. He gave her a sidelong glance, and sighed. "I was right... you look smashing..." He turned them parallel to the beach, so the water could lap at their feet. He slipped his arm around her hips instead, his hand smoothing over her bare back for a moment, before drawing her to his side. "It's the wrong beach for Rebma... but you'll see that soon enough..."

Beatrice smiled at him and slightly hesitantly put her arm around him. She'd conjured up another slight blush when he complimented her. "It's a lovely beach. It doesn't have to have cities under the sea." She looked up at him, leaning her head slightly against his shoulder. "Just good company."

Morgan smiled as she leaned against him, "Good company in a bikini doesn't hurt either." His fingertips drew idle circles on her skin, as they walked along the shore, and Morgan watched her move with undisguised appreciation in his green eyes. "It's a far lovelier woman that I see..." He smiled, and turned them towards the water. It washed around their ankles as it came in and out, frothing a bit as the waves broke upon the sand.

Beatrice blushed again and protested, "Ahh, you'll make my head big with all these compliments." She sounded amused and flattered and pleased, despite the protest. With a glance down into the water, she halted their progress and swished one foot back and forth. "Should we go for a swim?"

Morgan looked back at her and smiled, "Well, it's good you've a string horse, I'm not likely to stop." He grinned and took both of her hands, walking backwards into the water. "Aye, I think we need to go for a swim... I'd like to see the mermaid in green all wet."

Laughing softly again, Beatrice followed him.

He smirked slightly, and when they were about knee deep in the water, he pulled her into his arms for a fiery kiss... hungry, insistent, passionate and deep. Then with a gleam in his emerald eyes, he turned to the water, and dove beneath the next wave.

Beatrice had a moment of surprise, and then she positively melted in his arms, into his kiss. When he pulled away, there was something of surprise in her eyes, and something of pleasure, and a shy little spark that looked an awful lot like desire. With a quiet laugh, she followed him deeper into the water, wading more than swimming still.

Morgan popped up out of the water behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. He seemed to be contemplating lipping into the water with her, when something distracted his eyes. The feel of her body against his was sweet enough, but when she turned to him, the line of her neck caught his eye, so he nuzzled her softly, and then began to kiss along her neck and shoulder, his lips brushing over pale slightly freckled skin. His breath was warm as he sighed softly near her ear, and the continued to kiss her skin.

Beatrice managed to not squeal in surprise, but she did make a small, startled noise. Then she laughed at herself and leaned back into his arms, smiling. The night's rest, and finding Morgan still there in the morning, had eased some of her sharp edges, and she was remembering this morning that she did enjoy physical contact from people she liked... She laid her hands on his arms affectionately.

The touch of his lips was both a surprise and not a surprise; she didn't expect it then - but after that kiss, she wasn't sure why she hadn't expected it, either... Without thinking about it, she tipped her head slightly, giving him better access to her skin as a bit more of her bright hair fell away from his path. "Morgan..." she said softly.

Cold ocean water from his hair dripped upon her skin, and rolled down her back and chest, but Morgan himself remained very warm. When she tipped her head to one side, her made an appreciative sound and continued to kiss her skin. "Mmmm...." He nibbled gently at her earlobe, his hand sliding over her bare belly, one just above the waistband of her bikini bottoms, the other just above it. His kisses became a combination of nibbles and soft lips down the side of her neck, lingering when he returned to that spot just behind her ear. Morgan sighed again, a languid groan rumbling his chest, "Yes, Beatrice?"

The combination of sensations - warm and cold, kisses and nibbles - set off the occasional shiver across Beatrice's skin. Though Morgan couldn't see them well, she had closed her eyes; she relaxed a little more against him, her warm skin against his.

"Nothing..." she answered softly. "I just wanted to say your name..." She reached up over her shoulder and gently touched his cheek.

Morgan smiled slightly, "Perhaps I will here is again..." He continued, his lips brushing across the nape of her neck, his attentions moving to her other shoulder as he brushed her hair aside. His hands became more bold, one slid lower, along her thigh, the other rose higher, cupping a covered breast, sequins digging into his palm. He nibbled the side of her neck, kissed her behind her ear, and whispered, "And again..." Morgan nuzzled her, and nibbled her earlobe, his lips sucking upon it gently, before he playfully flicked it with his tongue.

Beatrice shivered with pleasure as his attentions continued. "I think you might..." she answered, just a touch breathlessly. The intellect that was usually so in control was rapidly losing ground to Morgan's siege; she made a soft, pleased sound for his playful tongue, and turned her face towards his. She came up against his cheek with hers, and nuzzled against it. "That's nice..."

Morgan smiled, "Yes, it is..." He closed his eyes and enjoyed her nuzzling for a moment, before he turned her about to face him, and kissed her properly. He cradled her in his arms, and deepened the kiss as his hand explored the curves of her form. He moaned quietly against her lips, and ran his hand along the line of her spine. He broke the kiss, and met her eyes for a moment, before kissing her again.

Beatrice moved with his hands easily as he turned her; she slipped one arm around his waist and hooked her fingers in a belt loop. The other hand crept up to rest on the back of his neck, just within his hairline, as they kissed. Morgan's quiet moan sparked another pleasant shiver, which followed his hand along her spine before it dissipated. She smiled at him when he met her eyes, and those eyes were brilliant green pools now, with desire and interest and pleasure swirling and drifting in them. This time when he kissed her, the quiet moan was hers...

[Some time later...]

Morgan kissed her again as she caught her breath, deep and sweet, and only then did he move from her, rolling onto his back, and gathering her to his side, hissing as the cool water touched fevered flesh.

Beatrice sighed deeply as he rolled onto his back and curled against his side, her head on his shoulder, her legs twined about his. "Morgan," she said softly. "Morgan, Morgan, Morgan..." She laughed, very quietly, just for his ears. "Thank you."

Morgan turned his head, laughing a bit as she spoke his name, and kissed her cheek, "Thank You." He smiled, "So this? This is the Beach near my lands... not sure if it has a name or not. It must, but damned if I can remember it right now." His hand drifted over her curves, "I've got other things on my mind..."

"The beach or the lands?" Beatrice asked, smiling. "Or is it both?" She slipped an arm across his stomach and hugged him.

Morgan smiled, and whispered huskily, "Neither..." He rolled towards her slightly, and teased her skin with his other hand, easily recalling what made her gasp.

"It's been a while," she confessed after a moment, relaxing under his touch, "and never on a beach."

"Aaah, well, then I am doubly pleased to have expanded your horizons." He met her eyes, grinning. "This is not the usual tour, you understand... but it is certainly one I'd be happy to take with you again." He kissed the tip of her nose, and sighed pleasurably. "Next time --- a carriage, perhaps..."

Beatrice shivered slightly under his teasing fingers, her fading flush and a rising blush jostling for prominence on her skin. "I didn't think it was the usual tour," she admitted quietly, meeting his eyes and smiling. "I think I'd like very much to take this tour again. With a carriage or without one."

Morgan's grin was verging on glorious, "Oh, I think I can arrange that. Being the tour guide allows me to make the rules after all." He kissed her again, what began as a slight teasing brushing of lips, turned into something deep and fiery. When it was done, he smiled and nuzzled her gently, "Shall we try to move... not that I might lying here... I doubt we'll see anyone..."

Beatrice returned the kiss with interest and then returned his smile afterwards. "It is nice here," she answered. "On a beach, in the sun and the waves... in the arms of a handsome tour guide..." There was gentle teasing in her voice, and she nuzzled him softly. "I'm thinking I'd like a proper swim before we move on, at least..."

Morgan smirked, "A proper swim, is it?" He lifted his chin, enjoying the sweetness of her nuzzling. His hand ran along her curves, "Then we should get to it then... before the tide comes in and whisks our suits away. Not that it matters, but I know I'll be needing shorts, at least, for ridin'..." His smile brightened, "So into the water with you, my Nymph... and wonder how far up the beach we'll manage to get on our way back...there is that one soft spot of grass..."

Beatrice smiled and blushed again. "It did look soft," she allowed. "The grass won't be after sticking around until later like all that dry sand..." She looked up across the beach, eyeing the line where wet sand met dry; the position bared the pale expanse of her throat for a moment, until she looked down to meet his eyes again. "Why don't you move our things? You are a dunking ahead of me..."

Her arm was still around him, and she hugged him slightly. She didn't seem especially inclined to move quite yet.

Morgan nodded and smiled, "That it did..." He smirked, "Yes, sand can be irritating... even if it is a devastatingly good look for you." He tilted his chin up to look over his head, and waved at the things, which obediently shifted further up the beach as if gently shoved by an invisible hand. His hand caressed her cheek, the side of her neck. "You don't seem to be in much of a hurry for that swim..." Morgan nuzzled her, and slowly kissed her neck. "You really should take one if you mean to..."

"Did we have a timetable?" Beatrice answered, sounding slightly distracted as he started his kisses. "I thought I might just bask here for a few more minutes..." Her fingers trailed lightly across his back, her arm not quite moving from the comfortable position across him, and she gently nuzzled him in return. "It's awfully comfortable."

"Not a single appointment or scheduled event." Morgan kissed her again, and shifted her until she was on top of him, their chests pressed together as they kissed. A gesture cleared sand from their skins. "Why not bask... And make it more comfortable..."

Beatrice smiled. "Ah, good..." she answered softly, and then he distracted her further with kisses and shifting positions...

[And later again...]

Beatrice eventually nuzzled into his neck and shoulder, and she stayed there, her arms wrapping around him again - just breathing - as her body shivered a little and began to relax. "Oh," she murmured finally, but the thought didn't really seem to go anywhere after that, because she didn't immediately say anything else.

Morgan held on to her, kissing the side of her neck, his hand sliding into her hair, the other holding her close, pressed against the small of her back. She nuzzled him, and he sighed, her murmured expression drawing a sigh from him. "Mmmm... Beatrice... that was the best swim..." He smiled slowly, and kissed her shoulder, before he leaned his forehead against it, taking deep breaths.

"Swim?" Beatrice asked, sounding slightly confused. A heartbeat or so later, she laughed softly. "I was going to take a swim, wasn't I. I forgot about that..." She nuzzled him a little more and dropped a soft kiss on the side of his neck. "You're quite distracting."

Morgan smiled languidly, and kissed along her shoulder, and the side of her neck. He gently nibbled the lobe of her ear. "Mmm... I didn't... it just seemed... something for later..." He shivered slightly when she nuzzled him, and kissed that sensitive patch of skin. "Am I? Well, I can try to be less so... if you like?"

Beatrice sighed and smiled, nuzzling against him still. "You don't have t'do that," she murmured. "It's just hard to concentrate on anything but you right now..." She dropped another soft kiss. "And that's not makin' thinking easier..."

Morgan's sigh was part groan, as he kissed her neck and shoulder, until he leaned her back and kissed her gently. "I'm not tryin' ta make it easier..."

Beatrice returned the kiss with quiet interest, shivering slightly as they shifted position. She was taking deep breaths, trying to stretch them out - something she wasn't entirely succeeding at. "Didn't figure," she answered after a moment or two. Then she giggled suddenly and regarded him with an almost embarrassed smile. "D'ye know... I think we've just had more sex in an hour than I've had th' last five years?" She slid a hand from his back to lightly caress his cheek - and then leaned in for another kiss.

Morgan groaned softly against her lips, and when the kiss broke, took a deep breath, before nuzzling her. He kissed her skin again, lingering over the feel and warmth of it, and the taste of her upon his lips. He smiled when she giggled, and tilted his head, "Really? A beautiful woman like you, left untouched for all that time.." He pressed her against him again. "It is a crime." He kissed her passionately, sucking lightly upon her lower lip.

"Mmm," Beatrice answered distractedly; she sighed softly, almost contentedly. As they kissed, she cupped his cheek gently, and she didn't let him leave when he was done with her lip - she caught him as he retreated for another kiss, this one deeper. She met his eyes over the touch of their lips; her gaze was still a little hazy from recent events, and finally she pulled back and giggled softly again. "I'm not after thinkin' anyone will be arrested fer that one... but it's true, it is - I never have had many fellas in my bed."

Morgan sighed and kissed her eagerly; when she didn't let him get away, he moaned softly into the deeper kiss she demanded. He gave her smaller kisses as their eyes met, and he could see the sensual haze in them, and smiled at having caused it. He pressed her against him, leaning back a touch, and smiled when she giggled. "I do not doubt it, Sweetheart... it remains a crime." He urged her to lie back, his arms supporting her, as his lips descended upon her breasts, kissing and nuzzling.

Beatrice leaned back with his urging, a slight moan escaping her lips as he nuzzled. She shivered and smiled at him. "We're never going t'get dressed again, are we?" she asked teasingly, giggling a little once more.

[And some more time later...]

Beatrice tucked her head into his shoulder, smiling. "I need t'rest, Morgan," she said softly. "And for more than just a few minutes..." She laughed softly - laughed, not giggled; she'd stopped giggling a few minutes before - and added, "And the horses are probably wondering where we've gotten off to..."

"Oh, aye, we'd best get moving. This is my new favorite beach..." Morgan smiled gently, and kissed her. Slowly, he shifted her from his lap, and got to his feet, before pulling Beatrice to hers. "C'mon then, a quick splash, and then we get out suits on and back to the horses." He held her hand and walked into the water with her. He washed the sand off of his body, and helped Beatrice do the same, smiling as he quite purposefully teased her.

She took the teasing good-naturedly, returning his smile and once or twice returning the favor under the guise of "you missed a spot" and a bright grin.

He led her back to her bikini, and stepped back into his shorts.

Beatrice worked her way back into the bikini, and then slipped an arm around Morgan's waist for an affectionate hug. "I like this beach too; we'll have to come back here," she suggested, smiling. "After all, we didn't try out that patch of grass you mentioned..."

She kissed him gently and, lacing her fingers in his, led the way back up to where they'd left the horses. They were obediently grazing on either end of the little clearing; both heads came up as the lovers returned.

Morgan returned the gesture, slipping his arm around her shoulders. He laughed, "That is true... I'll try not to use up your energy before we can get there." He lowered his hand a moment, and playfully grabbed one of her buttocks, before settling his arm around her shoulder again. He kissed her in return, and when she moved to hold hands, he smiled and did so, grinning as he went, and whistling a tune.

"Ah, our loyal steeds await." Fiach looked up at Morgan's words, tossed his head, and went back to grazing. Morgan leaned towards Beatrice, "My impertinent steed awaits..." He smiled, "I should probably put pants on again..."

Beatrice laughed softly. "Oh, probably. I'm going to put my clothes back on..." She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and then headed across to Loyal.

She pulled out her clothes and started to change, offering him a smile as she half turned away and then stopped. "I guess it doesn't matter if you can see me changing now, does it?" she said, laughter in her voice.

Morgan looked skyward for a moment, "No, it doesn't matter..." He smiled slightly, tilting his head as he regarded her. "An' I confess... I peeked before..." He whistled an innocent sounding song for a moment, "But I far prefer the closeup view..."

He continued his whistling, and the tune soon had him in jeans again. He slipped into his t-shirt, and found his boots, watching Beatrice as he got dressed again.

Beatrice blushed faintly at his confession, and then laughed, grinning, and stuck her tongue out at him. "For shame. But I'm glad you enjoyed the view." She dressed in much the same order she had undressed, but this time she glanced up a few times to look at him and smile.

Finally, she ran her fingers untidily through her wet hair. "Where are we headed next, handsome tour guide?" she asked teasingly.

Morgan laughed quietly, "I most certainly did. I was actually worried you'd spot it...but I was pleased that you did not. It gave me time to admire the mermaid, and size you for your, admittedly, slightly small bikini." He grinned at her glances, and took her in his arms when she came close.

He kissed her lightly, and hummed a short song that dried out her hair as he ran his finger through it. "A little fluffy now, but I like it..." He smiled, "I think its time to actually have a look at my house and lands... such as they are. Could be ruins, for all I know..."

"Or it might not be ruins," Beatrice answered, smiling. "If it is, you will have a blank canvas to start with - and if it isn't, you might have a few nice surprises." She playfully reached up and ruffled his hair, leaning back slightly to observe the effect. "I do like your lands so far," she added, her smile even brighter. She paused to kiss him gently. "You should let your hair dry like that."

Morgan shrugged slightly, "We shall see, I suppose. It's only right you're here with me, since it is sort of your idea." He smiled when she ruffled his hair, "Oh, I rather like this little bit of it...even if the beach and I are only neighbors." He nodded, and kissed her in return, deepening it, before he released her. "I had no intention of brushing it really..." Morgan chuckled, and took her hand, guiding her to Loyal. He helped her on her horse, and then mounted up on Fiach.

He turned them south, "Shall we let them run a bit?"

"Go on," Beatrice answered, smiling. "We'll be right behind you."

Morgan led them on a run south, over hills, across green fields dotted with flowers, and through groves of apple trees. When the groves became orderly, he slwoed their pace, and let Fiach get a mouthful of one. He turned in his saddle to wait for Beatrice, and smiled, and said with building enthusiasm, "Look! I own apple trees!"

He smiled, and tossed Beatrice an apple when she got closer; a healthy shiny red specimen.

Beatrice laughed and caught the apple. "You do," she agreed, and took a healthy bite out of it. "Oh, and they're delicious, too."

"Fiach likes them." Morgan grinned.

She nudged Loyal up so they walked beside Morgan and Fiach, one on either side of a line of trees, and plucked another apple. Loyal took it neatly from her hand when she leaned down to offer it to him. "The king suggested I take some land of my own too," she offered after a moment. "He gave me a list of ones to choose from, and I'm after thinking one of them was in this area..."

"Did he now?" He smiled, "Ah, we could be neighbors." Morgan gestured, "My place should be that way..." He looked thoughtful, "Let's check over there, we can get a view of both from that hilltop I bet." He stood in the saddle, and leaned over to give her a quick kiss, his hand slipping into her hair to guide her lips to his. Morgan made it deep, and heated, and then released her... and galloped off for the hilltop he'd indicated, laughing as he went.

Beatrice smiled and returned the kiss; the depth and the heat surprised her, and she blushed slightly, but she didn't seem to mind being surprised. Her laughter trailed along after Morgan and Fiach, and then Loyal's hoofbeats followed as she urged him up to speed.

She reined in next to Morgan at the top of the hill, smiling brightly. "I think I'd like to be neighbors with you," she said cheerfully.

Morgan smiled, "Well, of course, I have apples and a rather lovely beach..." He grinned at her, and turned to have a look around. "I don't see mine... Random described as a manor house, which Dame deLahmere explained was something closer to a castle or fort..." He tilted his head, "Look there... it's round..." he gestured at a building in the distance. "It has windows... a house, do you think?"

Beatrice studied the building for a while. "It looks like the apple barns I've seen at home... Round... They don't usually have windows, but sometimes they get converted." She offered him a bright smile suddenly and pointed to a pair of dark birds rising from the building into the sky. "Look, Morgan - ravens. And that settles it; if that's the place that borders yours on the list, I'm after having it. It'll be like home, it will."

Morgan smiled,and watched the ravens for a moment, before nodding. "An entire Conspiracy of Ravens from the looks of it. A tad bit messy, but magic would handle that nicely." He laughed, "Well then, I guess we'd better get back on task and see just where my place is." He hooked a thumb in the proper direction, and nudged Fiach with his knees, which took them near enough to the trees for Fiach to snag another apple as he went. Morgan reached out, and gently batted Fiach's ear, smiling slightly... Fiach, in turn, snorted.

"I'll build them a proper Rookery," Beatrice answered, smiling. "We can magick that."

"Aah, well, that should work out better than knockin' a hole in a good roof." He winked at her, "An' you've a whole bunch more here..."

She lightly nudged Loyal into motion again, urging him forward until the two stallions walked side-by-side. With another smile, she reached out and plucked an apple for the well-mannered Loyal; she leaned down and fed it to him in the gap between trees. "Is it a task we're on?" she asked, quiet laughter and teasing in her voice. "We've made so many stops, I'd quite forgotten."

"No so much a task, I suppose, as a renewed sense of curiosity...do you suppose my place is round too?" He smiled, and let the horses set the pace...with Fiach grabbing another apple for himself as they passed one apparently too good to pass up. "Apple trees...the blossoms must be somethin' when its the right season...there were places like this in Avalon..." Morgan was quiet for a moment, "But that was a long time ago..."

"The Isle of Apples," Beatrice answered. "That's one of the names Arthurian legend has given Avalon back home." She reached out and plucked another apple, this time for herself. "The Welsh call it Ynys Afallach..." A soft laugh, and she gave him a wry grin. "I hate trying to manage the Welsh; I always mangle it terribly." After a few bites of her apple, she continued, "I'm after thinking that manor houses aren't usually round - not that you can't end up wandering in circles in them, mind you, but they're usually rectangles or squares."

Morgan turned to her, "You did fine with Welsh." He said quietly, "Reminded me of a dialect Under the Hill..." He passed his hands over the leaves of one tree, and was debating leaving without seeing the house. He'd been reminded of home one too many times already. He rode on with her in silence, scanning the landscape that might as well have been plucked from Hibernia in Avalon; they crested a rise and saw the house in the distance, across a field of purple flowers.

"Oh..." He managed descriptively.

"...my," Beatrice finished for him, her eyes a bit wide. "When you said manor house... I was expecting something rather more the size of my place. This is..." She trailed off, staring in bemusement.

"I know." Morgan finished for her, looking the place over, as he urged Fiach forward at a slow, almost thoughtful, pace. He stood in his stirrups, trying to get a view over the stone wall from their vantage. "There's a garden...I think the door is open." His eyes narrowed slightly, "Local kids maybe." He looked around, "Really bold local kids."

"A garden?" Beatrice copied his position, curious. "This place is just full of surprises, isn't it?" She smiled slightly and shrugged at his mention of kids. "And how long has it been since someone's lived here, Morgan? I shouldn't be after being surprised if there is someone visiting occasionally. Or maybe the door wasn't closed properly and a storm blew it open. It looks like it's in pretty good shape..."

Morgan nodded, "Aye, that is true. But Uncle didn't say there was anyone keeping it up." He looked around, "And the raven's nest is the nearest home, and that place was clearly empty. So if it is children, they've walked or ridden far." Fiach neighed, and Morgan patted his neck. "No horses that we can see." They continued to draw closer, with Fiach becoming more and more alert as they did, the stallion's ears swiveling. "Someone's made a fire."

"Maybe he hired someone for you after the last time you discussed it?" Beatrice suggested. "Or maybe it's someone that just can't afford a home of their own." She didn't seem especially concerned, though she was giving Morgan and his horse the occasional thoughtful glance.

"Maybe." Morgan did not sound convinced. "Stay here, Beatrice. Me an' Fiach will have a closer look." The black stallion's head lifted up, and nickered. "We'll find out. Fiach will drop me off by the wall, and he'll go around back. Don't get too close until we say." Morgan's hand dipped for something at his hip that wasn't there, and he seemed almost surprised by that fact. He looked to Beatrice, "Okay?"

The look Beatrice gave him was searching - but after a moment, she nodded. "Sure. We'll stay right here." Loyal halted without her picking up the reins. "Call for me when you're ready."

Morgan rode ahead, and it seemed that even Fiach's posture changed. The warhorse was not built for stealth, but he stepped high and lightly, and kept his head low with his ears swiveled towards the house. Morgan slid from the saddle as they approached the wall, and stood by it for a moment, his lips moving silently. Crouched low, moving like a predator, Morgan headed towards the open gate in the wall, a dagger of dull steel conjured to his hand in a flicker of fire.

Fiach went wide around the house, moving to the rear, as Morgan slipped inside and out of view.

Beatrice slid out of the saddle as they reached the wall and took a seat on the ground in front of Loyal, her back against his forelegs. She murmured something quietly, under her breath, and a shimmer of magic settled over woman and horse, whispering to the immediate vicinity that, this isn't your problem... It's harmless... They're harmless... It's taken care of... There's no point bothering them... Just keep moving along... It's someone else's problem...

After a breath on Beatrice's part, to let the magic settle, and a sigh by Loyal, who had seen this before, she started a new spell in the same quiet murmur. This time she rested her hand on the ground, digging fingers into the dirt as she spoke. The magic went questing out around her in all directions, seeking through the earth for intelligent minds. It found Loyal first, of course, and then a brush of magic touched Morgan; it didn't probe, or do much, really, just welled up from the ground and brushed past like a fish against a wader's leg, leaving a piece of itself behind to mark where he was. The magic did the same to Fiach and moved into the house.

Morgan felt the brush to his mind, and his emerald eyes narrowed. He considered that it could be Beatrice, but it was a detection, he was sure of it, and he would not take any chances. Morgan blocked the intrusion with a minor manifestation of the Pattern, and then heard a man's voice. He listened and approached the door, moving in the shadow of the wall, until he was beside the door that led into the garden area. Morgan made a gesture, and the sound of a knock resounded against the door.

A voice from within responded, "I told you 'No' the land is not for sale." The voice was deep, but cultured, and held an exasperated tone. Morgan made the knocking sound again, while behind the house, Fiach waited beside an entry, ready to rear up and knock anyone that was not Morgan to the ground.

Outside, Beatrice shook her head slightly as Morgan dropped off her magical radar, the jolt his block caused almost making her drop the spell. Then she snorted softly in laughter, looking up at her horse. "And that's what I get, isn't it, for forgetting that I'm trying to spy on a sorcerer?" she whispered to him. Loyal bent his head to nuzzle her briefly, but declined to comment.

She smiled briefly and turned her attention back to what she could still see - the large blip around the back of the house, and the human-sized one that had to be indoors.

Morgan waited by the door, when it was thrown open in response to his knocking, he attacked. The bald man coming out of the house had led with a crossbow, Morgan pushed the line of fire up, which planted a bolt into the molding and snapped a kick out for the bald man's knee. The fellow cursed, and turned his leg, bending the knee in time to take the kick on his thigh. Morgan tore the crossbow from his grip, and spoke a harsh word that rocked the man back into the house.

Beatrice could hear the sharp twang of the crossbow going off, and she certainly felt the power word when it was spoken, like a sudden blip on her radar.

She tensed unconsciously at the sound, her head turning slightly in the direction of the sound and the magic. She wanted to restart the spell so she could see Morgan as well, now that something was clearly going on, but she convinced herself that it might not be the best idea she'd ever had. He'd simply cut it off last time; what would he do the next? And flying crossbow bolts didn't make the idea of standing on Loyal's back much more appealing. She took a deep breath, in and out, and convinced herself to wait a little longer.

A moment passed in silence, and then another. Finally, Beatrice saw Fiach trotting back around to the front, and Morgan walking out of the gate. He waved his hand in the air, and she heard his voice by her ear, even at a distance.

"Seems I nearly skewered the Butler, it's safe. Come down."

Morgan waited for her at the gate, smiling, the dull steel dagger he'd conjured nowhere to be found.

Beatrice rose from her seat, dropping both spells and dusting off her pants. Then she caught Loyal's reins and moved to join Morgan at the gate.

She offered him a bright smile and touched his arm lightly with one hand - there was dirt under her fingernails - when she reached his side. "Well, and that's a relief, isn't it? That he's a butler, not the skewering. Neither of you are injured, I hope?"

"Aye, tis a relief." Morgan nodded, understanding what she meant. "Beatrice, this is Galt. We're alright, he nearly shot me, and I kicked the wind outta him. We're about even."

Galt stepped forward, he was a rather distinguished older man, that kept the remaining fringe of white hair cut very close and neat. He was possessed of an aquiline nose, and the sharpest pale blue eyes, that lent him a somewhat hawkish appearance. "Miss Beatrice, a pleasure. As I explained to His Grace --"

"Morgan."

"--I was sent to here to tend the place by His Majesty. He thought it could do with some attention before its new owner moved in. Come in, come in, I just have tea up." Galt nodded to them both, just as Fiach strode up to stand just outside the gate. "Should I stable your horses? There's plenty of grass to free graze, if they're not in the habit of wandering."

"And it's a pleasure to meet you, Galt," Beatrice answered, giving him a bright smile. "I can't speak to Fiach's behavior, of course, but Loyal will be fine if I just untack him and let him be. He won't be after going far." The grey nudged her arm gently and she laughed. "Not any farther than the orchard, he assures me."

She moved to start unsaddling her stallion.

"Fiach won't wander either. He's used to bein' saddled. If we're here awhile I'll come back out an unsaddle him." Morgan glanced to Galt. "Old habit, which Fiach prefers."

Galt blinked a moment, "I had heard about your warhorse, Sir. I did not realize just how smart he was." He smiled in a friendly manner, and moved to help Beatrice with her saddle. "Now, come in and have some tea. I will show you the manor."

Morgan was already looking at the place, his hand on the lintel, as if absorbing information from the stone.

Beatrice was an old hand at unsaddling a horse, it seemed; by the time Galt moved to help her, she had already unfastened the girth on one side and was lowering it so it wouldn't hit Loyal in the leg. She motioned Galt over to the other side, and moved to take off the bridle as well.

They made brisk work of untacking; Beatrice determinedly shooed Galt away to take the saddle off herself and left it and the bridle by the door. "Go on now," she told the stallion, smiling and scratching his neck affectionately. He nudged her again with his nose and backed away, as she turned to lay a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Ready?"

Galt stepped aside with a small smile, and waited just inside the door.

Morgan nodded, "Aye, I am. I have to say, this old place, it reminds me of -- home." He turned to Beatrice, and took her hand, leading her inside. Galt met them in the hall, and proceeded to give them the penny tour of the first floor, he had them sit at a long table in the hall, near the kitchen, and served them tea.

He explained that the manor was once the home of local sheriff, and that the old place even had a dungeon for holding drunkards and the like. When they had enjoyed their first cup of tea, he took them both on a tour of the entire house, which was largely furnished, if in a style not at all Morgan's. They ended the tour with the dungeon. Morgan's reaction foretold what would happen there.

"Bar. All I see is a Bar over there, and tables here, and maybe a stage there. A Bar."

Galt laughed a bit, and then saw that his employer was quite serious. He led them back upstairs, to the Drawing room. "There is a small matter, Sir --"

"Morgan."

The Butler simply continued, "His Majesty seemed to indicate in a letter that he was uncertain whether or not you were take up residency. Have you decided that yet?"

"You should," Beatrice said encouragingly. "You did so love the orchard - and you're already after thinking how to change things. It's almost like it's home already, isn't it?"

"Do you think?" Morgan looked around. He had liked the old house, it reminded him of the stone forts and castles of his home. The dungeon reminded him of a drinking hall he'd spent time in when he was in Faery. Hence the idea of a bar had come to him immediately. "I'm not much for tendin' orchards an' the like, or keepin' a house for that matter, ye've seen how I live..."

Galt raised an eyebrow, "Sir, not to put too fine a point on it, but you won't be doing any of that anyway. Managing the house, the grounds, and any other staff you might hire will be my job." He smiled slightly, "Your job will be simply to live here, and enjoy it."

"I'm not much for havin' servants, Galt. Not sure I ever was."

"I am an employee, Sir. You pay me."

"How well?"

Galt smiled, "I can assure you, Sir, that when I write the check for my monthly wage, I am certain I am worth every penny."

Morgan turned to Beatrice, "I've never set up a house before, either. Will you help?"

"It's been a while since I was after doing it myself," she answered, smiling, "but I can try. But!" She laid one hand on his arm, gently, and shook a teasingly scolding finger at him. "You'll have to be helping me with whatever place I end up with, especially if it's that place up on the hill with the ravens..."

"Aye! Done and done! I'd be glad to, Love. What I cannae actually hammer, I can conjure." Morgan grinned and waggled his fingers in a presumably magical fashion. He kissed her and grinned. "Shall we have a look around upstairs then, and decide what we want? All of Shadow is our Department store? An' I've ideas for Portraits that are out of place, but almost look right." He grinned, and led her back inside towards the stairs.

Galt smiled and moved to guide them again, but Morgan smiled and shook his head, "Aah, I think we remember where things are, Galt."

Beatrice laughed softly, her cheeks turning pink. "Thank you, Galt," she said over her shoulder. And then to Morgan, "Out of place but almost look right? Like an Escher etching?"

"More like Dagon in a hunter's cap, smoking a meerschaum pipe." Morgan replied readily, leading her up the stairs. He smirked, and stole a kiss near the open door to the minstrel's gallery. His eyes brightened as he pulled her along up the stairs.

She considered that image for a moment, and then laughed again. "We may need all of Shadow to find that," Beatrice suggested, the last word into the kiss. She had a brilliant smile for him when the kiss broke; as they moved higher, she squeezed his hand gently. "What about that one painting, the one with the dogs playing poker?"

Morgan laughed, and shook his head, "Over done...hmm..." He stopped at the top of the stairs. "We'd need something else...horses maybe, or Jabberwocks. Maybe the Mad Hatter's tea party playing cards." Morgan smirked, "But that would be for the Bar, Yeah?" His arm slipped about her waist. "So any ideas for the bedroom?"

Beatrice smiled and leaned into him slightly. "I'm after thinking the Mad Hatter's tea party playing cards will be more in the surrealism category, Morgan." She chuckled softly. "Do you know, there was some crazy American that was after claiming that Alice in Wonderland was teaching children that recreational drugs are a good thing...?" She shook her head slightly and kissed his cheek, blushing brighter suddenly. "Nothing out of Lovecraft," she said firmly. "I'd have to be seeing the room again to have a better opinion than that..."

Morgan smiled, "Surreal can be funny too, yeah?" he smirked, and shook his head. "Everyone knows that Alice in Wonderland was encouraging adults to use drugs, not children." Morgan winked, and nuzzled her. "No Lovecraft, right." He smiled and nuzzled her, before leading her towards the bedroom. "Well, you'll just have to take a closer then. Spend some time there, so you can decide."

Beatrice laughed softly, returning the nuzzles with a smile. Her cheeks were definitely still pink. "Now how did I know you were going to be suggesting that?" she asked playfully.

She followed him, her fingers twined in his, into the bedroom - and into what followed...