The rumble of Colt's old, battered trunk could be heard some distance away, the Gypsy leaning close to press a warm kiss to someone's cheek. But it wasn't the former star football player she kissed, only his pilot love-interest, Tenacity.

"Thank you luv, I had to get away." She said with a fond smile, pulling away.

Murmurs were exchanged, hugs, and promises to see one another soon. Climbing out of the truck, she slammed the door shut, walked around, and patted the hood, soon raising her hand in a wave of good-bye. It was cold out, the Gypsy being foolish enough to leave her coat behind at the Inn.

Ten had scolded her and in her carefree fashion, Vera had waved off the concern. She was hoping to catch a water maiden, turning away and strolling down the broken, brittle sidewalks. Heading for the pier where Kai liked to watch the ships and boats, hands moving to shove into the warmth of her skirts. And it was silent save for the scrape of her shoes and the rustling whisper of her thick, black linen skirts.

Rolling her eyes up to the sky, she considered the stars and allowed for a smile to curl her lips but a name caught and held her attention, making her falter, her feet tripping up, the thud and scrawl of her boots coming to a halt.

Tilting her head, the wind and spray from the sea blowing wild strands of hair across her face, Vera wondered if she had heard right - catching only snippets of conversation. Other names, more words, a hum that floated over to her on that cold wind, which was bone chilling that night.

She knew better, knew she should turn back, and go the way she came. There could be another night when she hunted for Kai " who was probably at Sanctuary or her room at the Inn. But that name. Frowning, the Gypsy tipped her head down, letting her hair fall like a curtain, blanketing her face. Hiding her features and identity, while she struggled in her indecision.

It was wrong "

...and smacked of intrusion.

Bright eyes caught the pair on the pier and she lingered back in the shadows, thick enough to hide her - to eclipse what little moonlight might shine on the fairness of her hair. She hardly dared to breathe too loud, catching it along with the cold, in the back of her throat. Sharp, crisp, and holding that scent of fresh and decay that prevailed the sea.

She held her breath, waited, and listened.

A lop-sided smile tugged at Thorn's lips then, nostalgia's grip loosening its hold on her throat abruptly. At least for the moment.

"I'm just, talkin' baby doll. Don't expect you to take what I'm sharin' to heart."

The shrug that lifted her shoulders was a smooth movement, something reminiscent of no pressure and no worries. She knew he'd brawled, and who he'd brawled with. Expecting either of them to walk out without damage would've been a fairytale even Thorn couldn't put faith in. And considering what she'd built on the back of fairytales, dreams and wishes, well yeah. "And you don't because, in the end, you don't want to wind up with him blaming you if neither one of you actually takes that fall?"

Quirk of an auburn brow with the slightest touch of humor there. She wasn't mocking him, not in the slightest. A shiver along her skin, the barest prickle at the nape of her neck was rubbed away when she took another drag from her cigarette.

"The aftermath, gods that sh*t. Tears a hole inside that nothin' fills, feels like nothin' ever will. C'n try, but no matter whatcha do, nothin' touches it. Been there. Loved a man, fell hard and fast too, damn hard and damn fast. Then, he wound up doin' something noble and kinda stupid.

And, I tried to hold it together after he'd gone. Then I got.." killed, and raised, "really screwed up for a really long time. Haven't seen him in, gods I don't have the slightest clue. Five, six, maybe seven years now" Let it screw me up for so long that I tore myself to hell and back. Because I couldn't deal with the aftermath." Wry, oh yes indeed.

"But, when I fell again, once I realized I'd fallen, I couldn't stop myself from ridin' it 'til he, well died." Not a play for sympathy, she didn't employ that sort of tactic. Simply, an illustrative point, perhaps several if he heard them. "Sometimes, what?s supposed to be, stomps a mud hole in what you think it should be like."

Again the thought - This is wrong - to eavesdrop on this. It was a subtle outpouring of a man's emotions, a man who didn't typically like sharing more than a quip, a smile, and a good drink. The Gypsy hadn't meant to walk into a conversation that was clearly marked private and yet, had no way of leaving without drawing attention to the fact she had been there. Vera had a true moment of panic, silently catching her breath again and letting her eyes dart furiously around her.

Thorn caught her attention anew, brows pulling together and forming a wrinkle. A man. Oh, the Gypsy remembered and shivered, pressing back deeper into the shadows.

But the same man from that porch, the Medieval Tavern, all those years ago'

She didn't know and had no way of asking, turning her head to look back over her shoulder. God, if they caught her, she was in for a tongue lashing, Vera felt sure of that.

He was a reticent bastard, wasn't he" But sometimes, for some people they had the opportunity to see the other side, even if it wasn't knight-in-shining-armor and old honour, and this was that. As he listened, a match torn out from the dog-eared book clipped to the other side of the case and that slip of antique gold sitting in his palm ending up back in his pants, he lit the red-tipped end by running it, smoothly one-handed, up and under the crescent of a hard, thick thumbnail that just barely, barely peeked out beyond the flesh of the thumb pad.

Breathed in deep, deeper, as his eyes swung sideways on her contemplatively, pain-tinged (much as he'd damn well swear he didn't 'hurt' in that kind of way), and his wrist flicked the flame dance out before the dead sliver ended up on the pier floorboards, boot grinding over it to make sure it went cold and fast. It didn't matter that she didn't say what she said for sympathy, or that she didn't even need it, because Bjorn had empathy.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out he'd had his heart blasted every which way until Sunday because men didn't fight it that hard if it hadn't hurt once that bad, and his free hand reached, impossibly gentle for such a savage, to touch her hair light, try to coax her forward as he took a step inward, persuasively attempting to guide her to rest her cheek where his heart beat, that sinew-stricken, lean forearm under the wool hard but careful, careful and close, around her where the elbow dropped low at her back.

Thorn's life in Rhy'din had held two actual relationships. One, the first, the Gypsy knew, the other, very few knew. If she'd been paying better attention, she'd have offered the Lion the use of her lighter. No, it didn't take a genius at all. No one fought that hard if they hadn't been utterly wrecked at least once before. Easily guided, she tipped her head into that so light tough to her hair, and again to rest her cheek against the heartbeat he offered. Arms slipped around his waist to return the comfort he offered. "Would he accept a gift, one laced heavily with healing magic" And would he be allowed to use it?"

There was a reason she offered, just like there was a reason she was still alive after all the things she'd done since coming to this Plane.

"I'll help if y' want." Yes, she'd offered to help him screw a hole in this town. And he could take that as he would, interpret it as he chose to. At the mention of the witch, her lips twisted into a grimace that, well it was a good thing that he likely couldn't see her face. But, she made no comment.

At least not the sort she'd dearly like to make, though she was loathe to be nice. "Maybe it was meant for the fighting" An' not as som'thin' t' tell the world y'all're gonna be tyin' the knot with glitter an' sparkles?"

She really was trying to break the cycle of his insulted, indignant ranting, just a little. Just enough to break the tension that was riding the Lion's shoulders and bending his back. A soft thrum, nearly a purr in response to the kiss atop her head, hands shifting to rub small circles. A gesture, chaste as it could be, to offer comfort and support in any way possible.

A hand snapped up and closed tightly over her mouth, muffling the surprised laugh threatening to escape.

It wasn't funny and yet, completely hilarious. The matching necklaces, oh, that nearly did her in, making her eyes roll in their sockets as she tried to contain herself.

Ella - God bless the crazy witch. Vera was still feeling heart-sore from her earlier ruminations that Katt was still living and the memory of that alone was enough to steal away the mirth.

Dropping her hand away, she made to leave, a subtle turn and twisting on her feet, kitten-quiet. Yes, time to go, before she was caught and had to pull a signature scene.

"Well, that friggin' blows." Delicate, she wasn't, honest, she tended to go overboard with that. Especially when certain balances were tipped.

"Who you send flowers to is your business, no matter where they get picked up at, or sent to. And who you decide to screw brainless isn't anyone's business but your own. Especially if they wanna know if you like to be choked right on back."

Okay, so that was a little convoluted, and her phrasing might be a bit surprising, but the underlying truth was still there. Might need to be sifted through later to be have a thumb put on it solid, but it was there.

"And, okay yeah, I get the whole who-wants-a-negative-atmosphere-where-they-relax-a nd-drink thing, but you know what?" Tipped a frosted amethyst look up at the Lion's face then. Maybe his jaw if he was more than six foot in height and didn't happen to be looking down at her right about then, but she tried.

"When people really are adults, they can f*ck the dog sh*t outta each other, and still be all friendly like an' cool an' have nothin' change when they're hangin' out at the bar later on if there's no promises between 'em from the jump."

Thorn, rather enjoyed sex as well, and didn't think there had to be anything pretty or 'special' about it either. Ahem, mini-rant over, sort of. She'd probably kick things at home later.

"Yes, he's a man. But, have you noticed that he thinks things have to be one way, you think things have to be another way, you're neither one talking to each other about those ways, or trying to find another way for them to be? Hells, if I get to know him well enough, and no I'm not asking for a test ride on your man."

Being clear, and her brain to mouth filter stopped working, again. "But, if either of you would allow it, if he does have to go, and if you thought you'd be okay with the shift, there might be a way you could go see him after he leaves. On his ground." And she might wind up regretting sharing that.

"With no strings attached either."

It came in a sputter, surprising her more than anything, eyes flaring wide when Vera realized the traitorous sound was sneaking past her lips. The sputter grew into of all the most god-awful things - a giggle.

Vera didn't giggle!

From the giggle, a real, silence shattering laugh, leaving her frozen mid-step. F*ck.

What to do, what to do!

Quick, she grabbed her cell phone from a pocket of her skirts and suddenly, began talking to herself. They didn't know this though, the Gypsy strolling out from the shadows, bold as brass. Like she had just arrived and not been there for - too much of the conversation.

"She did what?"

Another loud laugh, grinning insanely from ear-to-ear. She kept up the one sided chatter, sauntering along the pier and past the couple, seemingly to have forgotten that there was " an end to it.

"And what did he - oh, hallo Thorn, hallo Bjorn -" she gave them a tiny wave, "say after all of that!?"

Keep walking Gypsy and they won't see you....

...oh. There's water there. "Umm..." She teetered on the edge, blinking, realizing - this is not a place you go strolling off of " blink! Arms flailed and Vera gasped out, tipping forward and backward, like one of those clown dolls children enjoy taking punches at. "Sh*t." So eloquent.

Did admit: "You sure as hell aren't wrong,?"about her policies, and, "Doubt that'd work either. I offered to go with him, and he don't want me anywhere near it because?""

But someone had giggled, and now there was profuse talking, and Bjorn eyes slitted contemplatively as if he were suspicious of being eavesdropped on.

Gently moving hand from cradling Thorn's head to over her mouth as if to keep her quiet, he strained his ears (a focused ability, and not an automatic one), listening between the pauses of Vera's oh-*** since she was pretty much right next to them at the pier-edge.

With a brief, devilishly sidewise look down to Thorn, he outstretched his smoking arm and didn't burn her - but yeah, he poked her firmly with not enough pressure to place a bruise, but enough to help her forward if she was properly teetering! Forward, that is, into the cold ocean waters. Nice night for a dip!

"Good evening, Vera,?"pleasantly.

Of course, Vera couldn't break out laughing before Thorn put her foot in her mouth. In a not-so-very-clear way. At least, well at least she'd only said that much and had managed to keep enough back. Her temper, which handily enough hadn't broken completely free, was yanked back sharply. She'd definitely be kicking things later, for more than one reason now.

"Yeah, I get that." Some wishes, were nothing more than that. And handily enough, there was a hand over her mouth to keep her from swallowing anymore of her foot than she already had.

Probably up to the hip by now, at least that was the way she felt. Imp's humor battled with the first hinted edge of what might be a thread of oh-f*ck for having crossed a line she'd set for herself without so much as a thought. Temper, it always did her in. And a snicker for the nudge the Lion gave the Gypsy.

...splash.

Vera had time enough for a tiny, plaintive cry before she went tumbling into the water, gasping and swallowing the sea in shock. It was ....cold. To the point, she thought she might die of it, arms and legs kicking out through the salty water. Of course, layered skirts weren't very conductive for swimming, tangling around her long limbs and effectively, dragging her back down.

But what really made her upset'

Not the possibility of drowning, oddly.

No.

Her cell phone.

Gone! Ruined beyond any imagining!

Whimpering, she glared up at the pier and at the two of them, teeth chattering. "Yes, a fine f*cking evening ..." Sigh.

If she ever once hit the surface, Bjorn ever the gentleman gave her a chance to redeem herself, while transferring hand to Thorn's mouth to her shoulder.

"Were you, by chance, eavesdropping" Hm, Vera?""Shoulder, in case she tried to help her. There is a rescue plan in place, should the Gypsy cooperate.

In the meantime, he was smoking his cigarette and letting her marinate long enough to possibly catch a proper cold.

The redneck, couldn't help it, full throated laughter broke free. Flicked a sideward glance at the Lion, silently query made. A nearly silent, "I c'n get 'er out, she jus' ain' likely t' like the side effects of it."

There were shadows down there most likely. Then again, she'd rather like to hear the Gypsy's answer to that question herself. Thorn just wasn't worried about her own words, his more than anything.

Subtle headshake: nope, not yet.

Barely there, easily felt though, shift of a shoulder in a shrug. From two to one, single arm around his waist, companionable and warm.

....Bjorn was evil!

She ruthlessly sunk her teeth into her lower lip, to keep it from trembling, strong legs kicking, fighting the pull of the water swirling and making her skirts feel as if they had gained twenty extra pounds. With the way they soaked up the sea and salt, they more then likely have!

Looking up at him, one hand sliced through the water logged mane of her hair, shoving it out of her face. That lovely white peasant blouse" Gods, she almost didn't want help out of the water.

"I wasn't trying to!"

The Truth, in part.

"I was looking for someone else."

Again, like some told the Gypsy her name represented, more Truth.

"How does one eavesdrop without trying to?""

A brow-raised question, dubious, but he took another drag while slithering from Thorn to kneel at the pier's edge, elbows over his knees, contemplating hero even if the woman had supplied her own technique. She was quite free to join him in this endeavor!

"You'll forget every word you heard and never repeat it to another soul, vishya??"

Stage: Bargaining.

Thorn, rather liked his style truth be told. A shift in her stance, eyes going half lidded and unfocused. For those that could feel it, there was a gathering. Chaos and the purest, unadulterated lust building outward from two pinpricks of bright blue within the redneck's own shadow.

Waiting, oh yes indeed.

"Yes, done and done!" She said quickly, her hands reaching out like a starving child might to one offering food. Eager, hopeful. Please.

Teeth snapped and clattered together, her skin turning pale though not yet the faint blue tinge that spoke of danger. Still, she needed to get home and warm. Dry!

...and shivered, the bright of her eyes turning feral, looking over her shoulder, Vera rolling those eyes down to the dark ocean surrounding her.

"Okay, yes, I remember nothing, nothing!"

The Jaws theme really should be playing right about now.

Sadly, the redneck did not know where Vera's home was. She did however, know where the Inn was, and that there was a nice, warm fire in the hearth. Waiting still, she looked to Bjorn for permission.

Two more, and this was one:

"And you'd never, ever eavesdrop on me, or Thorn for that matter, again, vishya??"

And two: "Because you are sorry, vishya??"

A headshake for Thorn, one smoky finger up. He'd give the signal. Let that cold water creep deeper in first!

Well, bone chilling cold, often did counteract, certain urges. Showers, ice packs, and the like. This could be a good thing. Lips twitching, dangerously close to what could only be considered a feral grin.

...he might as well have asked her to stop breathing.

Still.

"Yes, I am sorry!" Nod-nod from the Gypsy, sinking and bobbing in the water, shuddering now.

"I will not eavesdrop on you or Thorn, ever again. I'll leave you alone forever, if you wish it!" Gasp.

"This is not necessary, Vera,?"chided Bjorn, tilting that wildly thick-maned head of his frankly. "I like you thus far. You are pleasant company. So long as a lesson has been....learned...?" Glancing over shoulder at Thorn, he kicked up both brows.

"What do you think" Should we help her?""A—.

Yes, Vera thought the same thing! A—!

"Don' want you t' leave me alone, 's all good Vera." Cheerfully said, apparently she was as much of an *** as Bjorn tonight. "She did promise, an' you did strike the deal." Sort of had to help her now.

Then again, Thorn would have anyway, and a lot sooner.

"Should I help her, or do you want the honors??"

As if they had time to discuss this.

"Well, not that I doubt you. But, my way'll get her to the Inn really damn quick. Y'rs'll just get her up here, in the cold air."

"Then you may have the honour," Bjorn relented graciously.

She glared at him from beneath the thick screen of her lashes. But, it wouldn't be done to cuss out her would-be hero. Still, it was tempting. Gritting her teeth, she smacked at the water with her hands. God bless it! She turned pleading eyes to her friend Thorn.

"Look, guys, I'm wearing a white blouse. Just, do something!" This was embarrassing enough without anyone getting a good look at what Mesteno had called her great tits. Gods.

The shadows under Vera's skirt, the little bit of it that were likely to still be floating free, spiraled wide. Snapped open as that building surge of Power reached out. A conduit opened, like the maw of some great, gentled beast. The edges, that zone where the source of that Power raged the worse, were smoothed, the majority of its touch taken, somewhere else.

Bjorn had a thought. "Wait...?"

"Maybe I should.?"White blouse and all.

"Turn right an' head upstairs soon's y' feel the ground under y'r feet again."

Fair warning, though it was brief, and the shadows took hold of the Gypsy, spiriting her away. Eyed Bjorn, with a snort of laughter.

Damn, too late!

..."Huh?"

Vera looked down into the water, missing what Bjorn had said before - gone!

And what had crept up her skirts!"

Her screams truly did echo back, released just before she vanished.

Panting, Vera found herself sprawled out on the Inn's floor, alone. Shivering, her whole body shaking, she pushed herself up on hands and knees, looking around wildly.

Alone.

There was a God.

No one else lingered in the common room. Climbing slowly to her feet and grasping her sodden skirts tightly in her hands, to pull them away from where they plastered against her legs, she hiked the wet and heavy linen up to her knees. Feet clamoring on the stairs, the Gypsy ascending rapidly, her teeth still making a noisy chatter.

"I had no idea he could be such a right, bloody bastard," muttering, nearing her room and throwing the door open, darting inside and slamming it (very firmly) shut. Sighing, she fell back against it and ?

Laughed.

Laughed and laughed, sinking down to the floor, that pealing laughter loud in the quiet of the night, booming in her room. No doubt, she woke a few people up - lovers and loners - tucked in their respective beds, who had been lost in the dreamscape.

Didn't matter.

Vera curled her legs up, knees folding to her chest, letting her head loll back against the door.

No, her laughter right now didn't matter.

(Many "thank you's" to Bjorn and Thorn for this!)