Maybe it was the change of scenery. Maybe it was the first rift that they had to struggle with. Maybe it was the fire place or maybe it was that the initial tension was left behind with the empty plates of a well prepared meal. Whatever had happened the mood lightened.<br/><br/>He had forgotten about himself in all the servin. Silly for sure. When Mari asked him he took time to notice her again. He had seen her as she worked and cared but now the caring was tah him. The feelin rushed on him so suddenly he was sure his ears warmed with it.<br/><br/>"I'll take ah Barry's an you tah sit ah spell."  Vince replied. "Tis all der sweets I need add tah me cup."<br/><br/>[I'll take a Barry (Brand of Irish Black Tea) and you to sit with me.  This is all the sweets I will need to add in my cup of tea.]<br/><br/>Vince waited for Mari to sit and with cup in hand he sat beside her. But it was Nicci who got his attention as she held out the pen and paper. He leaned over to keep her from straining and took it from her and gave her a thank you nod.<br/><br/>He wondered how to approach her about the look he found on her earlier.  Maybe it would come out in the conversation, after all they had spoken openly earlier. But her remark had surprised him. He wondered if he showed so much.<br/><br/>In spite of his hesitation he found himself answering her from that very heart, "Tis nay inna paper I've found me heart tugged this night. Nay inna paper at all."<br/><br/>[It's not on a paper that I found my heart tugged tonight. It's not about the paper at all.]<br/><br/>Vince took a few moments to write. He scratched it out and went again. He sighed and scratched that out. He realized is foot was tapping and his tongue was poking out as he gripped the pen. He looked at the fire. No help.<br/><br/>The tapping insistent. His thoughts jumbled. He wanted to know all about the strangers like him. It was hard to cram into one sentence. He scratched the paper again and turned it over to begin again.<br/><br/>He closed his eyes and pressed the pen to the paper. It probably wasn't going to be straight but he wrote two questions that were burning into his soul.<br/><br/>When he looked up he could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead. He was a handy man not an author. A man good with his hands not with words. He hoped they didn't mind his misspelling and punctuation.<br/><br/>He gave Mari a grin and held out the paper to her. The lady before the gents, Vince thought.<br/><br/>"Next, me dearah!"<br/><br/>[Next, my dearest]