Sianna nodded and did as she was bid, after removing the collared blouse and folding a small hand towel. Still clad in her chemise and skirt, she sat on the stool and reclined as bid, the mass of her hair cascading into the empty tub. The porcelain coated metal was cold and rigid against her skin. She sat forward and placed the small towel at the base of her neck for cushion. Feeling his eyes on her, she grinned up at him, her hands coming to rest in her lap. "Like this d'ye think?"

Pupils were ever-so-slightly dilated, giving his eyes a forest hue rather than their normal bright emerald. Johnny grinned in appreciation and then nodded. ?Yeah, jus? like tha?.? He knelt beside her and reached for the taps, turned on the water. Silver-meshed fingers hung beneath the faucet while he waited for the temperature to stabilize. ?Can see th? places where th? egg din? ge? all ou? ? stiffer?n th? other curls, an? differen? kin?a shiny.?

Dark brows lifted as she turned her face toward him, the rush of the water loud as the empty tub began to fill. "I dinna think it should be too hard tae get out, aye?" The corners of her lips twitched as he nodded. "Some things never change, aye? Ye take yer life and yer appearance in yer hands when going intae th' Inn. Especially when ye dinna pay close attention." Sianna chuckled softly, her eyes tracing the profile of his face. "D'ye remember th' night that woman pelted ye wi' a bottle?"

His free hand lifted to rub the back of his head in memory. ?How could I ferge?? Though ta be fair, she was tryin?a peg ya, an? I was jus? in th? way. Barely even remember wha?all tha? was abou?, though. Nah, th? one I remember bes? is ya takin? down Darren with th? whiskey bottle. Din? think ya?d risk a goo? scotch tha? way.? He chuckled, and with the water at a comfortable temperature he filled the small bowl and used that to begin thoroughly wetting her curls.

Teeth caught her lower lip, as she nodded slightly at the memory. "Especially considering how much we both enjoy good scotch in other ways." The words tumbled out in a rush, her face coloring slightly as another memory crowded out the first. Water sluiced through her hair, rivulets running down from her temples.

Silver-meshed hands paused very briefly, and then he continued filling the bowl and wetting her hair. One hand guided the water from her face while the other filled and emptied the bowl. He chuckled quietly, forest eyes shadowed, and said just under his breath, ?Death?a me,? before he spoke in normal tones. ?Still keep yer hair-stuff in th? same place??

Some things never changed, even though his quiet comment was lost in the sound of running water. "Aye, still th' same. Right under th' sink." A hand lifted to her face and rubbed at her one eye, an eyelash having tickled the iris. Yet that same silly smile clung to her lips.

Nodding, Johnny put the bowl down in the tub and twisted to get the bottles from under the sink. He studied the frosted-glass bottles for a moment before he set aside the one with the milky-white liquid. A twist opened the other bottle, filling the steam-saturated room with the rich, clean scent of vanilla and thyme. A blonde eyebrow lifted a fraction at that. ?Ya ran ou?a yer rose stuff?? He asked while pouring a dollop of the amber shampoo into one palm.

"I did no' have any petals, and could no' see wasting th' last of th' rose water before th' bushes begin tae blooming again." The steam from the bath water clung to the light growth of stubble cropped along his jawline. "D'ye no' like it?" Sianna's hands fiddled in her lap, lifting the material across her knees to raise the hemline of her skirt. The heat in the small room was palpable and streaming from multiple sources.

One-handed he shut the shampoo bottle and put it aside, then leaned over and began working the shampoo through her hair. ??S all righ?, jus? wasn? wha? I was expectin?.? As a fine white lather began working up in her hair, he trailed his fingers through its water-heavy length, and then back up to massage her scalp. ?Guess there?s more?n a li?l of tha? goin? aroun?.? His laugh that time was both rueful and touched with self-reproach.

Sianna's hand moved to rest on Johnny's knee, fingers squeezing lightly against the denim-clad joint. "Aye, and just th' same, none of it is tae permanent, aye? Like th' egg yer washing out of my hair. Can make things stiff and diff'rent from how they are normally tae be." Her hand relaxed, yet remained on his leg. "And it may take a washing or twa tae clean things up... but all will be turned tae rights in time."

?Ya go? a lo? a confidence in tha?, Si-love. Bu? th? eggs?r still broken, an? no puttin? them back t?gether, even if?n th? mess ge?s cleaned up.? Picking up the small bowl again, Johnny filled it and then started carefully rinsing out the shampoo. Again one silver-meshed hand guided away the soapy water from her face. He was very aware of the warmth of her hand on his knee, but made no comment about it.

"Aye, but th' egg was never meant tae be th' permanent thing, aye?" The scent of the shampoo blossomed around them, floating on the moist heat. "Reminds me of when I was a wee girl. I'd gone tae th' coop tae fetch a basket of eggs. Running a bit tae fast, I caught th' toe of my shoes and spilled th' whole basket on th' stone steps." Her eyes closed in recollection, lips lightly parted as the scene appeared in her mind. "Had lost th' whole day's laying and Gran was no' tae happy at first. But it 'twas only breakfast. There were many more eggs and days that came after that one... Th' mess on th' steps did naught tae upset th' foundation of th' house." Again, her hand tightened on his knee.

The hand at her forehead turned briefly, touching the back of his fingers to her skin, before he refilled the bowl and continued to rinse out the shampoo. ?How d?ya thin? our foundation?s holdin? then? ?Cause I feel like we?re slippin? on san?.? Johnny?s baritone voice was quiet as he asked. Putting down the bowl in the tub again, he ran his fingers gently through the soaked mass of her hair, feeling if the shampoo was gone. Satisfied, he twisted again to pick up the conditioner.

Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, her eyes seeking his as the quiet admission seemed to hang between him. "I used tae sing a silly little song when it rained. 'Bout the foolish man who built his house upon th' sand, and th' wise man who built his house upon th' rock, aye? And for both houses, storms raged all around it. The rains came down and th' floods came up, yet th' house on th' rock stood firm." Sianna turned her head to the side, her temple resting against the cool porcelain. Voice quiet and breathless, she answered his question finally. "Th' windows may be rattled and th' roof leakin' a bit... but th' house will hold, I think."

Concentrating on the metal cap of the conditioner, more than strictly necessary, he opened the bottle and poured a dollop of the thick, milky-white liquid into his palm. One-handed he resealed the bottle and put it to the side. Only once that was done did his eyes slide to meet hers. ?Gla? ya feel tha? way.? It was all he said, that and a small smile with one corner of his mouth. Leaning over her again, he carefully began working the conditioner through her wet curls.