#datenight

Zara finds Bronte bouncing against the window one night, hectic behavior that is MOST unlike her.

"Darling?" She looks up from her lace. "What is it?"

There's a troll on her window sill, "Hi," A smile.

She opens the sash. "Did you fly? In, in, in..."

Bronte rushes forward "Sweet mystery of life at last I've found you" but heading not for the troll, but the package he carries

A gentle eyebrow lift.

He scoots in, "Okay, how do you know what it it.." He shakes his head, "Silly me to ask."

The last to Bronte. To his lady, he takes her hand with his free one and kisses it lightly "Hello, night lily of the garden of my delights. Missed you"

"Obviously, she smells it... silly baby." An indulgent grin. "How's the painting?"

"See for yourself," he offers the package, "I.. have a gift, as usual, it involves painting. But..ah" A look to Bronte, "No fooling some noses"

"Not hers, at least. Though.. hm... dust and vanilla?" A sniff, herself.

“Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.” - The Bookwyrm says hopefully at the package. Zara can smell paints on it. It is not old, but it is made out of old materials. good. Takes the edge off the new

She carefully unwraps, taking the time so the paper may be saved. "Lady Bronte, do not be jealous of my gift. I will get a book for thee, I promise."

Illustrated and scribed in incredible detail, it is a copy of The Woman in White by Collins. Oh if she flips through it, she finds there is not a page that does not have some small bit of painting designs, be it merely framing, or whole scenes from the book brought in surreal glory by a master artist. The scene of London makes the fog of the place look as to a living hungry thing.

"I know you like victoiran lit, but I don't remember this one ever being mentioned" he says "So...if you have read it, I hope you like the art. If you haven't, I hope you like the story"

"I... have heard of it, but have not yet read it..." A slow growing grin as she flips through, dark eyes sparkling with delight.

Bronte coos and her tongue flickers out.

"Yes, you can read it too..."

She recognizes some of the work in the scribing as August, either that or August certainly helped

"August's hand? Here, it seems his..."

"Yes," he smiles, "I asked August for a few tips maybe and... well, he wanted to do more than that, so the illustrations and most of the patterns are mine, but the script work is 90% his. I ah, did insist on having the first line and last line of each chapter. So if it looks clumsier there, that's why. August says it works, something about an old technique but I can't even remember the phrase."

She leans over, stretching her neck to plant a kiss on his mouth. Well, that's some kind of reply!

Startled, pleased, and then he returns it.

As for the script, it is clear August made the transition into a feature, not a bug as if the rthym of the words picked up speed as the letter shifted, rather than being abrupt.

"Thank you." After coming up for air.

"After a kiss like that, my hind, I believe that would be my line" a smile slips free

Bronte finds this romance stuff all well and good, but there's a book to be read. Can't it wait?

"Well, you were deserving... now... question, have you put a thought to father's day? DeVere might appreciate some time in your company."

"Well, my father and my father... one I must make a showing for, you know? He did raise me, albeit some what distantly. Sometimes I wonder if he suspects?" Speaking of his mother's husband. "But. mmm I'm ashamed to say I am clueless what to give as gift for Mr. DeVere. "

"After a year with me? Truly? Books, tea, items with stories... I imagine he would love a painting..."

"well, sometimes I worry paintings are all I give, but.. you think he'd like one? Wouldn't feel like I was doing for me what was easy? Well, not "EASY' but it might appear to be.. I don't want him feeling like I'm full of myself and handing him a painting, patting him on the head and saying 'see you next year'"

"Perhaps ask him how he would like to spend time? I suspect time is the most precious gift you may grant."

A long thought then, 'You're probably right" A tilt of his head, "how did I end up dating the smartest girl in all of Apples? "

"Dogged persistence."

"It was a hunt worthy of an epic for the prize alone"

A soft chuff. "Few would seek that prize."

"Then they were blind indeed" A soft snort

"I am not so easy to see. Who else but my hunter could have spotted me?"

A smile, "I had to find you, you were my everything. I had to hunt. Everything might get away otherwise." A soft stroke on her cheek, "How are you, lover and beloved? Are you well?"

"I am well, aye." She closes her eyes, revelling in the touch. "I will be playing Risk for most of Sunday afternoon, I suspect. I care not for it, but Papa loves it so."

"He likes Risk? " A smile "Fun game. Does he go for Australia or South America?"

"Australia. Every time."

"I go for South America" he admits, "I'll have to play him sometime" he says with a spark of interest. Oh dear. her boyfriend likes RISK.

"Oh, you two..." She shakes her head. "Tell me this doesn't mean I am dating my father..."

"Ack, no no, let's not get weird" He boggles then "though there are worse guys to share some traits with than Aaron Scwhartz"

"True. Papa is the best."

"Well, he and I do have another thing in common"

"Such as?"

"Each of us has a spot wrapped around one of your fingers" He kisses her knuckles again

"Flatterer."