<em>- Bo in lounge responding to Mila -</em><br/><br/>Bo was initially disappointed that he wouldn't be able to see her artwork here.  He had forgotten that they wouldn't have internet access.  Logging onto the internet wasn't part of his daily habits, so it wasn't something that he had paid much attention to during the orientation process.  He didn't let his disappointment show, however.  Perhaps she would paint or draw something while she was here and be willing to share.  Bo was a patient man, and knew that some things were worth waiting for.<br/><br/>Her question brought up a part of his life that he wasn't sure if he wanted to share with the whole group yet.  So he hesitated just a moment.  He couldn't lie though, and sooner or later he was going to have to open up more.  He just had hoped to do so on more of a one-to-one basis.  But a family of six wasn't always going to be one-to-one, he realized.<br/><br/>He shrugged, as if it wasn't that big of a deal.  "I took some art when I was a boy, and drew, mostly war scenes and medieval knights.  Like most boys, I suppose," he said with a smile.  Then his smile faded a shade as he focused on Mila, "my first real love, she was an artist."  He didn't really want to talk about her in this setting, already uncomfortable with mentioning her, even in a general sense.  So he moved on quickly, "I seem to notice it more in others now.  And I appreciate the talent of creating.  I wouldn't say that I'm very creative myself though."  A sudden thought struck him.  He was just about to ask her how well she painted from photographs, as he had brought one with him that he would love turned into a painting, but decided against asking right now.  This didn't seem the right time, and he thought that it might put her on the spot.  So instead, he took a sip of his scotch, and leaned back in his chair, withdrawing his other hand from Nicci's shoulders as well.  He enjoyed having Nicci sitting between his knees, but he didn't want his hands to wear her shoulders out just yet.  She might enjoy the break, he thought.  The feel of her warmth against his leg was still pleasant.  The combination of the crackling fire, long journey, and warm scotch was making him feel lazy.