*Beej yawns and blinks at the light spreading over the ceiling for a moment, drifting through half-aware like the sybarite he is... He'd missed this, badly, lying here with his arms and legs tangled up with his beloved's...*

~~Warmth...security, and safety, and a hundred other things that the trader means to him all rest behind his closed eyes. His foot absently moves up and down against a bare leg, feeling skin and muscle play under the arch. His arms, one splayed out, his fingers caught up with the darker set, the other resting over a broad back, seem like dead weights...he has no desire at all to move them.~~

*The foot slipping along his calf makes him open one griseous eye, mouth curving into a smile... One hand drifts up to lodge gently in jade tresses.* Mornin'...

S'aft'rnoon...~~He grins a little, nuzzling against the curve of neck presented to him.~~

*A chuckle, nodding as well as he can* Afternoon... I think I'm finally 'wake!

Good...y'ain't snor'n an'more...~~His own grin is wide awake, his fingers curling over skin.~~

Snoring? You were doin' that yourself... *And with that, he squirms a bit, tucking the younger man beneath him, a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth...*

~~He starts to kiss back, sighing a little, shaking his head.~~ Y'snor'...din, us'd to tho'... ~~He didn't think they'd slept this closely since he'd come back...it seemed a little strange actually, not unpleasant, but odd.~~

*A feigned, pained sigh, rolling his eyes... He then grins, a saucy look taking over.* Your snoring was somewhat...impeded. *He reaches down and brushes fingertips against his love's fingers, lingering over his thumb... His tone was gently teasing, finding the thought of Neets sucking his thumb incredibly endearing. {This _is_ Beej, his opinion is just a _tad_ biased...} Being close, whether awake or in repose, is all he wants, he'll insist on it, now that he knows Neets is physically all right.*

~~Twin spots of color bloom on his cheeks, and he looks to the side.~~ Dunno w'y'a do th't... s'stup'd... ~~The teasing isn't meant that way of course, but any excuse will do to let through a bit of his shame. -Embarassment- high on his list of emotions, he fixes his eyes on the wood paneling, muttering a curse when he finds the digit in question sneaking upwards unconsciously.~~

*His face falls a bit at the blush and the words, giving himself a smack upside his figurative head...* I dunno either... 'S kinda...cute. *He blushes a little, thinking that word sounds dumb... It's right up there with 'cuddle'. He laces fingers through his love's, giving a short squeeze and bestowing a quick kiss on the tip of his nose* 'M sorry...

S'stup'd...l'tt'l kids do't... ~~He can't resist that tone though, or the gentle brush of contact between them, and he looks back, sighing.~~ M'sorry...jus' 'gnor' me...jus' bein' stup'd.

*Beej's eyes narrow as he raises up a bit, lips pressed thin for a moment before he shakes his head* For the last time, _stop_ -saying- that. And quit _thinking_ it! You -aren't- stupid. *Another sigh, looking off to one side* We're both sorry, for various things... *A small, wry smile, looking back to those golden eyes* Maybe we should go to confession and be done with it...? *His nose wrinkles at his own idea, and he lies down again, free hand resting alongside porcelain face* So little kids often do it. So? I'm the only one that knows, and I don't care that you do. *A flicker of his slyness returns* Or I won't, 'til it becomes an obstacle to kissing....

~~He shrinks away from the yelling, trying to force away the truth for the trader, to make him feel better.~~ M'try'n not't say an'th'n t'mak'ya angry... ~~Near a whisper as he shakes his head.~~ Ain't goin' t'no -ch'rch-! ~~Still, he glares at his thumb, as though it were a creature all on it's own, feeling...foolish, he decides after awhile.~~ 'Ow come I ain't doin' noth'n n'ord'r Beej? Ain'tcha s'pos'd t'be a kid b'for' y'gro' up?

*He presses his face to Neets' shoulder, not liking the younger man's shying...* I know... *He tries to sound conciliatory, ironic and understanding all at once, unsure if he succeeds... He sighs _again_, caressing the cheek under his hand.* I'm not mad... Just tired of hearing you say that. I don't like the word 'stupid'... Maybe it's just me...? *An amused snort, now, lifting and shaking his head* It was a very sad attempt at a joke. *He catches the glare and smiles a little, shrugging* I don't know... Maybe it's because you didn't get to be a kid? At least in the conventional sense? Yeah, normally it goes baby, kid, teenager, adult, old geezer, dead.

Don' matt'r...jus' don' wantcha angry wit'me...ple's'... ~~Out of nowhere, his hands lift, running in firm, smooth strokes over the trader's arms. Maybe he just wants to touch...maybe on some level, he's trying to keep control, to make certain they can't be lifted and used to hit him.~~ I kin' try 'ard'r not't use't 'round'ya. ~~Another shrug of shoulders too thin, pale skin no longer seeming so supple...more like parchment stretched over a frame, taut, ready to snap. Gods, he was -safe-...he shouldn't -feel- this way anymore!~~ G'ess'so...

I know, I know... I'm not. *He feels... Odd. Too much, too muddled together to sort out save notes of remembered fear and sadness... He'd -never- hit the younger man, _NEVER_.... Beej relaxes almost suddenly at the sure paths of those hands, eyes closing again.* It's strange... It's not that I don't ever use it, or never want to hear it... Just, not in the same sentance with 'I am'... *Looking down again, watching the movement of delicate bones under skin that threatened to disappear against the sheets... His hands move up and begin pressing into the knotted muscles there.*

Jus' don' 'urt me...~~The fearful words are an echo of the request he made the first night he ever spent in the trader's bed, and even he can't fathom why they replay themselves now. His head tilts back a bit at the kneading warmth of the fingers on his shoulders, his eyes fluttering shut.~~

*His mouth drops open and his hands still, stomach sinking, shocked to his toes... he closes his eyes -again-, shaking his head and resumes his rubbing, trying to keep his hands light and away from Neets' neck... Or his throat, at least.* How could I? *It's soft, rather rhetorical, in fact...He has no other words, just -love/apology/worry-.*

Y'cou'd...I d'serv't... Y'cou'd...n'I'd jus' lay 'ere n'tak' w'at's com'n t'me... ~~All of this intoned in a matter of fact drawl, and the younger man doesn't tense at all, though somewhere, he's frightened by how true his words are.~~ Don' be sorry Beej...ain't noth'n fer'ya t'be sorry -'bout-.

*This time, when his hands stop, his head bows and rests against Neets'... He then takes a deep breath, holds it for a minute and expells it slowly.... The trader's arms circle the younger man, holding him close as he turns over, putting his lover above him. He returns to his massage, not looking at anything but the inside of his eyelids when he begins to speak again.* Deserve... You deserve to be able to expect me not to hit, or otherwise hurt you... You... I... *He stops speaking, not knowing what else he could say that would make a difference, or explain... He suddenly just wants to be lost, whether in/with his beloved or through the office of a number of stiff drinks, he doesn't care...* It seemed like I scared you... I didn't mean to, if I did, so I was, am sorry...

~~He doesn't, or can't, or won't agree...for a long time, silence permeates the room, but for the clatter of people downstairs.~~ Beej...~~No, that was too quiet again, the trader, his love, his friend, wouldn't be able to hear him...~~ Don' 'xp'ct'ya't 'it me...th't ain't w'at'a me'nt...m'sorry... ~~STOP BLOODY APOLOGIZING!~~ ~~Whoever's words they are, they seem like sound advice.~~ Jus'...bein' back...kin'a made me t'ink... ~~He trails off, resting one cheek on Beej's chest.~~ Ain't easy som'tim's, t'memb'r th't'ya ain't like alla th'm... It ain't -you-...s'me. I dunno w'at' t'do, 'caus' yer s'dam' -nice- alla time... Got alotta ye'rs'a bein' 'fraid, n'only'a litt'l w'ile wit'ya... ~~Sighing over his little speech, he lifts his eyes, wanting the dusky-skinned S'Harran to understand what he means...watching, to see...~~

*The low rumble of tavern traffic, replete with fights of all sorts- including some that always made him think of the woman, no, women that had spoken to him about magic -seems louder than ever, or perhaps it was merely his heartbeat reverberating in his ears as he waits for his young man's words...* I didn't think so... *He grimaces slightly with his next phrase* It's all right. *One hand describes soothing circles as the other rises to slide across malachite locks... He nods, looking thoughtful.* Maybe I should get a -white- hat... If you could remember that Good Guys always wear white hats... *He doesn't know why he always has to find something funny or flip to say, only that scary things weren't so scary when he had something to laugh at. He doesn't laugh, doesn't even grin, just smiles his half-smile...* I'm just me, y'know? I'm... If you were someone else, but I was still me, I'd still be this way. *He knows he's said it before, but he thinks this version makes more sense, nodding again.* I know... I don't know what else I can do, except to just keep being me... Unless you have any ideas.

~~He smiles a little, a soft curving of rose-colored lips as he lays his head back down on his lover's chest.~~ Nah...m'us'd t'th' yello'un... ~~His breath must be awfully warm against that bare skin, with his mouth and nose so close.~~ A'kno'... Ain't nev'r bin' 'round good pe'p'l much tho'...don' 'xpect'm t'be th't way. ~~Could he? He'd tried not to make that many overt moves since his return...wasn't sure if he could bear the thoughts that would intermingle, of Beej and Stretch...and surely, a hundred others. Now though...he wanted touches...he wanted the closeness they'd shared before... Hesitantly, still wary and uncertain of his desires, his face turns, and a tiny kiss is pressed to the skin below his own.~~ Mebbe...mebbe a'do...

*The other corner of his mouth curves up, the beginnings of a grin at the smile from Neets* Ah, yes, The Yellow Hat... I think I'm too fond of it to take up wearing a new one. *The soft curl of warm air over his sternum makes him shiver a bit, not unpleasently.* I know. Hmm... well... *He trails off, trying to think of something that would help... The kiss helps to distract him further.* Do you? Well, well... *And now the grin flickers into sight, though he makes no other movement for now.*

Don'...now th't a'kno' w'y ya' we'r't... ~~His kiss was short-lived, the affection there, but not the desire... He worried for a second, that it might never feel right again, or that Beej would go to someone else...~~ Mebbe not... D'ya...d'ya min'?

Nah... 'Sides, it'd look funny, feel weird. *A nod for the reasoning, both hands cupping alabaster face* Mind? *A smirk, a snicker, a grin* I never mind, according to my mother. *His silliness transmutes into faintly serious gentleness* Mind what? Tell me, show me whatever you wish...

~~He can't help but smile a little more in return, running a finger over patterns he imagines on his love's arm.~~ She din' se'm s'bad... Mind...y'kno'...jus'... ~~Biting his lower lip again without thought, he finally continues after a pause.~~ Mind th't I don'...wan'a do much...fer'now. ~~The last two words added in a hasty rush, like a promise of harvest, or maybe a reason not to look elsewhere just yet.~~

*That smile... He'd missed everything about Neets while he'd been gone, so to see -any- expression was wonderful... But a smile was best. The doodlings on his arm cause his face to scrunch up, and he nods once more.* My mom's all right... She -did- want to know if you fed me enough. *He winces as the boy's lip gets gnawed upon, fingers resting gently on it* Don't do that.... *His expression changes to understanding, apprehension and tension draining from him. He chances upon the utterly ridiculous thought that it might make a puddle under the bed...* No, I don't... I was wondering about that, actually. *And where would he go? He hears the promise/plea, but says nothing... He does wonder, somewhat idly, how long it will take for them to get back to their former level of safety.*

~~He didn't know how long it would be before he could leave off with the shyness and hesitation...he didn't think he'd been -this- bad when they'd started all this.~~ Heh...don' feed'ya noth'n...y'mak -me- eat... ~~He blinks, a little startled, but lets go any further assault on his misused lower lip.~~ Jus' don' wanna dis'po'ntcha... I kin'do -summth'n-, f'ya wan'...~~He almost bites his lip again, recalling too-similar words in a flat above a nightclub, and wondering -when- he was going to stop bringing up things like that.~~

*He recalled hands half-resting, half-pushing on his chest and a somewhat frantic voice, a hurt ankle... He shakes the reverie off to chuckle quietly* You feed me on occasion... And y'let me have garlicy stuff. *Another fleeting glimpse of that grin* I try to make sure you won't -starve-... *A soft sigh, reaching over the side of the bed to find his vest and the tin therein, one part of his mouth still quirked up* Disappoint me? No... I... I mean, I just... *He rolls his eyes, takes a deep breath, and orders his thoughts as he places the oval container on his chest, between Neets' face and his.* I leave it, whatever it might be, in your hands. Anything, everything, nothing at all... Your choice. You're -here-, and that's pretty much all that counts, to me... *He takes the top off the container, still smiling, a faint blush coloring his face*

Mak'ya brush'yer teeth aft'r tho', y'kin' bet! Ain't gonna starv'...jus' be sk'nny's'a stick. ~~He nods, holding still in preperation, awaiting the warming touch of a fingertip on his lips.~~ 'Kay... 'Ow com'yer blush'n?

*Ah, there's the grin again... It lingers this time.* I know... *A faint flicker of worry darts over his face* You know, there -is- such a thing as being too skinny... It's not good for you. *He flushes even more at the fact his blush was noticed... He makes a show of making sure he gets just enough of the lip balm, warming it to a useable consistancy as he answers.* Nothin'... Just... Thinkin' about 'somethin''.... *He just rolls his eyes at himself and snorts, gently touching fingertip to his lover's lip, tracing the shape of it...*

Y'worry too much Beej...~~Maybe the hollows of his cheeks give lie to the words...or maybe his ribs are just a -bit- too visible, under the scarred white skin... His words are somewhat blocked by the lip balm being massaged into the broken skin, but he continues on.~~ W'at? Nice...

Do I? *Another sigh, he did that far too often these days.* I was the one that was going to have to go to the hospital, remember? *A joke, mostly... He -was- a worrywart at times. He keeps distributing the ointment with soft strokes, nearly massaging the mistreated flesh.* Just... that having you home *his brow furrows at that, but he goes on* is the best...but... bein' with you... That'll... *He stops, scowling faintly* Sounds absolutely -ridiculous-... Icing on the cake. *This muttered quickly to get it over with* Nice? Good... *He lets his finger rest on Neets' mouth, just looking at him.*

~~He does his best to take the sighs away, running his fingers over dark hair. Oh dear...those words brought a blush to his face as well...~~ S'good t'be ne'r'ya... ~~He's been snared again, by those grey-velvet eyes...and he doesn't seem to mind it much either.~~

*He gazes back, chrysoberyl and alabaster and emerald blurring a bit before resolving into his beloved's face; the hands in his hair causing him to smile more and blush less.* That's good to hear. *His smile widens at the pinking of Neets' face and he recalls last night, as well as a conversation held a while ago... and he laughs quietly.*

~~He seems just a little puzzled by the laughter as he curls the chestnut hair around his fingers.~~ W'a's'so funny?

*He closes his eyes, counting on sleepiness to help him out...* Y'kno', we'r' silly... Oh? Why do you say that? 'Cause we'r' sittin' 'ere lik'a coupl'a girls'r summat, blushin'... *He shakes his head at himself, looking that pale face over again.*

~~Much to his own surprise, he giggles.~~ Yer gitt'n bett'r...nex' t'ing y'kno', yer gonna soun' jus' lik'me! ~~As an aid to this, Neets props his chin up on his hand, and his elbow on Beej's chest.~~

*The grin is pretty much a permanent expression, now* Y't'ink so? *He wiggles his mouth, screwing up his face, not in distaste, but more like someone who's adjusting to an odd feeling in their mouth* Feels strange to talk like that... Might not work when I'm completely awake. *Though, he notes absently, he _is_ rather awake... Oh well.*

~~He pokes the trader gently, shaking his head.~~ Y'ain't doin't ri't any'ow... ~~On impulse, he ducks his head down, meeting the trader's lips as they screw up, and pulling back with a giggle.~~

*He wiggles at the poke, but it's not exactly a grand effort on his part.* M'not? What's wrong with it? *He's merely curious, the kiss surprising him a little... He just smiles, then arches his neck to plant another kiss on the corner of Neets' mouth, wary of causing further damage*

Y'jus don' soun' ri't...s'all. Y'soun' bett'r jus' lik' y'do -now-. ~~He doesn't seem to shy from these little signs of affection, accepting the kiss.~~

That's all right, then... *He shrugs at his own words, brushing gently at beryl tresses again* After all, our accents differ... *He tries to thicken his own, but only adds the faintest musical touches to his words... He makes no further overtures, though an idea or two drift by, filed away for the moment.*

~~He almost sighs, wishing his voice wasn't so...light...and his accent wasn't so thick.~~ W'en yer acc'nt ac's up, y'soun' pr'tty...a'jus' soun' dum'. ~~He blinks, having caught a few of those thoughts, surprised for a moment that they seem so clear.~~

Pretty? Oh... Well, thanks... *He looks down for a moment, thinking* I like the way your voice sounds... Your accent makes me think of... Home. Damp soil.... Potatoes...? *He makes a face at that, not meaning to offend...And utterly bewildered as to the source of his words. His thoughts he'd hoped to keep to himself, or at least the more risqué ones...*

~~Emerald brows shoot up, and he grins, a touch mockingly.~~ P'tato's? I mek'ya t'ink'a -vegt'bl's-?! ~~Falling back on the bed, he giggles, laying on his side.~~

*His wide grin returns, a hand stealing towards too-lean ribcage for a careful nudge of their own* What, you'd rather I told you you made me think of fruit? *He snickers at that* Or perhaps I should tell you you make a smashing girl.... *The trader shakes his head once again, sighing happily* I don't know _why_ potatoes... Just like I don't know why damp earth. Just... That's the way it is.

~~He puts a lot of show into his thinking, screwing up his face and pursing his lips.~~ Dunno...w'at kin'a fru't? ~~A slow, wicked grin spreads at the last comment, and he looks down.~~ Y't'ink I got t'chest fer't? Dunno...don' t'ink a'kin' pull off on'a th'm strapl'ss dres's... ~~He doesn't go into what the trader makes him think of...~~

Hmm... That's a very good question. *His own act of thinking includes a sudden shift in posture, imitating Rodin's statue...* I don't know. *A laugh, fingers splaying over Neets' side* Strapless? I'm afraid not... Though I do believe the gunnysack or burlap-bag style is coming back... shapeless shifts for shiftless shapes... *He blinks at that, chuckling, then continues* That is, shapeless people... *He turns on his side as well, propping his head on his hand and smiling goofily.*

Sh'ftl'ss? ME? ~~His teasing is light, poking almost exprimentally at the trader's arm.~~ Y'seem t'lik'me well'nuff any'ow. ~~He blinks at the sudden rumble of his stomach.~~ G'ess'a shou'da eat'n summat b'for'.

I corrected myself, now, didn't I...? *Beej's tone is all form and no substance, pleased with the mild teasing turn of the conversation. He watches his beloved poke his arm, amusement shaking his shoulders...* You're hungry, are you? *He turns over to fish in his vest again, using only one hand... This leaves his side, and coincedentally his armpit, raaaaather unguarded...*

Suuuuur'ya did...~~He sounds thoroughly unconvincing, watching as the trader rolls over. Innocent as a babe, he looks around the room, his fingers tickling up a bare ribcage.~~

Well, I dii-aaaigh! *He turns over again, squirming under the assault of those fingers, the paper sack with the other bagel falling to the floor with a dullish thump... His arm draws close to his body, hoping to trap his love's hand...*

~~Snickering, he allows his thin hand to be caught, his nails curling and biting (not too hard mind you) into tanned skin.~~ Y'did -w'at-?

I -was- going to say I -had- corrected myself, and I -was- going to offer you something to eat, but now... *He feigns a weary sigh, bending the arm pinning Neets' hand, his own carefully grasping his beloved's wrist. His grip is light, loose, it wouldn't take much to escape it... Beej reaches back over the side of the bed to extract the bagel from its sack, grinning.* Now, I think you'll have to ask nicely.

~~He isn't putting up much of a struggle, that's for certain. He seems oddly content to lie there, held gently in place.~~ Yer gonna mak' me beg fer food? ~~He raises an eyebrow, questioning these actions with an acerbic look.~~

Not _beg_... Just ask nicely... *He waves the round bread under Neets' nose, keeping his smile under the acidic look... He plans a sudden kiss on the inside of the captive hand's wrist.*

Y'ain't play'n fa'r... ~~He draws in an involuntary breath, wriggling a little and baring those needle-sharp teeth.~~ C'mon Beej...'m -'ungry-! ~~Strangely though, his free hand isn't going for the bagel...it's back up to tangle in the trader's hair.~~

All is fair in love and war. *He relents, releasing his love's hand to break the bagel in half, then tearing a bit off, holding it above that tempting pale-rose mouth.* Here... I didn't bring up any cream cheese, though. *He lets the hand in his hair do whatever, grin unfading.*

~~Hungry...he -was- hungry, really he was, and he nibbled on the bit of chewy bread offered to him, if only to prove it. Still...if Beej wasn't angry with him...if everything was alright... His hand continues its lazy path through chestnut crinkles of hair, and he sighs appreciatively over nothing more than being near.~~ S'okay...s'good'nuff.

*The first bite gone, he pulls off another, feeling somewhat like a mother bird... He wonders breifly if he might not be overly attentive, but they'd been apart... He shakes off this line of thought, happy to just be, for now.* Good.

~~He's relatively sure of himself now, nibbling at the bread again, swallowing before moving his head a little, his lips closing around the trader's fingertips for a second before he draws back again.~~ Mmmm...sorry...~~He doesn't sound too bloody repentant!~~

Just don't -bite- me... *He's not promising dire things, offering another hunk of the doughy food, a ripple of electricity up his arm from his lover's warm, damp mouth.*

~~The same eyebrow arches, his voice holding a hint of mischief.~~ 'Ave I ev'r?

Oh, once or twice... *A small smirk* Accidently...

~~He snickers, not unkindly, relaxing a little more and moving to lie on his side.~~ Don' coun' f'ya -lik'd't-! ~~The snicker fades to warmer tones, his quiet pleasure spreading across his face, taking away some of the age hidden in those odd yellow eyes.~~

*The trader rolls his eyes, chuckling as well* I guess not... I seem to remember someone holding my socks for ransom for biting them... I bit the person, not my socks. *One would be hard-pressed to find reproach in his voice, ashen eyes peering into amber... The bagel bits are transferred to one hand, his free one coming to rest atop malachite hair.*

~~He lowers his eyes, breaking the contact between them yet again, but only to look down at the bits of food and shakes his head. That just wasn't what he wanted...~~ I 'memb'r th't... Mmm...Beej? ~~He'll never have the guts to ask, and he knows it, so he settles. Settles for looking back up, in the instant before he closes his eyes and kisses his lover...and it's no chaste affair either.~~

*Beej takes the opportunity to blink, hand slipping along his love's face to cup chin, intending to lift it... However-* You do? You should... *He starts to laugh again, but the kiss impedes it... His return isn't exactly hesitant, though he -is- careful of that lower lip.*

~~The need for air finally makes him pull away, but it's only a fraction of an inch that he puts between them.~~ Y't'ink...mebbe we kin' do th't ag'in? ~~He looks positively angelic, or would, if angels had ever figured out the social ramifications of asking people to kiss them.~~

Do what? *Wickedness seeps into his expression, though his voice (slightly unsteady from his own oxygen requirements) is all innocence* Me bite you and you steal my socks? *He shakes his head and covers his lover's mouth with his own, gentle as before...*

~~His blush fades, thankful he won't have to ask, and his hands roam...anywhere and everywhere, memorizing planes and angles he swore he'd never forget. Muscle, skin...hair and eyelashes and anything else withing fingertip's reach.~~

*All of this was very nice... But he had a handful of bread that was either going to get slightly soggy and subsequently all over them and the sheets, or worse, lost to dry up and return as crumbs. He breaks the kiss long enough to sit up and brush the bagel to the floor before holding pixie-ish face still to kiss once more...*

~~Well, good...this new hunger was much more distracting, all-encompassing, than the mere need for food. He kisses back, not minding his lower lip as his hands find resting places, one on the sweeping outside curve of a thigh, the other flat against the trader's chest.~~

*His hands trace the rise of collarbone and the wedge of scapula, following faintly raised lines over porcelain back, fingers of one hand pressing along knobby vertabrae, the other sliding to splay over hipbone...*

~~His scars are so much a part of him by now that he never notices them unless someone else points them out...and the man he's curled up in bed with now is the only one he's ever let touch them like this. That in and of itself, the trust it implies, is heartening.~~ Lov'ya... ~~The only words he can seem to muster up, and they'll have to do, because his mouth is back to it's task of earlier, kissing his lover within an inch of his life. Something tense finally lets loose its grip, and he thinks he knows how this night will end...~~ ~~GONE IC~~

*Trust is earned... He still marvels that he's worthy of such a level. His young man had said something, hadn't he? Oh...* Mm-hmm... *His mouth otherwise occupied, he doesn't seem to notice the last of his apprehension dripping away in the face of the promised reunion... One in the most literal sense of the word.**GONEIC**

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