Hallbjorn shook his head in a rueful, amused way when Kara asked him if he knew how to teach her to dance. The large man did not know how to dance. There was very little that he knew how to do that was not related to fighting and the taking of life. He thought that if she were immortal, then they could find some things to learn together, and stopped himself from imagining a future with her. That was a dream that could not be.<br/><br/>Thankfully Kara was talking and that took his mind away from things. He knew of her love of reading. There were many times that he had seen her curled up on a chair or in her bed with a book in hand and noted just how rapt she was in the words on the page. He knew very well how she lost herself in the stories that she took in. And he knew too how many hours she spent at the senior citizen center. Everyone there had always been overjoyed by her visits and all of the seniors eager to share things with her.<br/><br/>They came into the pirate section, and Hallbjorn was not even aware of the women whose garb had their busts on proud display. A red-headed woman with skin like cream and breasts the size of Kara's head tried for Hallbjorn's attention, trying to get him to sample some spiced rum with shameless innuendo, but the Berserker did not even hear her over Kara's speech. The red-head looked at Kara and scoffed, glancing at her bust, adjusting her breasts as moving her flesh about would calibrate them somehow and get them working again. But Hallbjorn proved resistant to her charms, and eventually she turned her wiles to other men.<br/><br/>She related her courses on the online college and he nodded. It was difficult, again, not to think of a future together with her - were she his female he would let her take any course that took her fancy and not worry about the cost of tuition or books. The large man pushed the thought from his mind, focusing as she spoke of work, her love of peanut butter cup ice cream, and her ritual of watching Supernatural.<br/><br/>"I have watched Supernatural. I like Castiel. I relate to him, a little." Hallbjorn mentioned edgewise. The blond Berserker felt something of an affinity for the angel who went rogue, following his principles over what his superiors told him to do. It spoke to how Hallbjorn set himself apart from the other Berserkers.<br/><br/>When she spoke of cleaning and singing, Hallbjorn hid a small grin. He was able to hear her sing despite the vacuum cleaner. The large man had found it adorable. "I enjoyed it when you did that." He admitted to her with a soft murmur. Before he could imagine her cleaning his place, could think of it as their place, he killed the thought.<br/><br/>The news that she was a horrible cook was not a big deal to him either. He was a fair hand at meal preparation although he seldom bothered with anything fancy. But he was at least more skilled than Kara. The large man began to curse fate because his thoughts turned to preparing meals for her. So many things that they would not share.<br/><br/>The sight of the woman in stocks being whipped, and with others lining up for the pleasure, did not strike Hallbjorn as entirely odd. That it was just out in the open was the odd part. Perhaps the popularity of the thing had something to do with how the pirate bore a passing resemblance to a handsomer, taller Johnny Depp. But before the attraction could take up any more of their attention, Hallbjorn was tugged towards the section of the fair where the Victorians were.<br/><br/>Kara's teasing voice had Hallbjorn conflicted, but he eventually decided to take the bait. He glanced at her with a neutral expression for a moment, and then spoke in a calculated deadpan.<br/><br/>"Yes, but do not fear - I averted my eyes honourably and found somewhere else to be at those times." The Berserker told her before turning his gaze forward and pushing into the Victorian section. He saw a few men in full Victorian dress sparing with thin-bladed swords with ornate basket hilts. Their form was good and their motions swift and precise. The men kept a hand behind their back like fencers would, and the powder on their face was marred with the sweat that they were working up. Hallbjorn's attention was also drawn to another food stall, and he purchased a few Scotch eggs while he waited for Kara to recover.<br/><br/>There were also women in elaborate dressed and their waists cinched with corsets. Their faces were powdered and they wore tall wigs.<br/><br/>"Today, being here with you, Kara," the Berserker said to the young woman, "the world feels young again." He glanced at her, turning his his eyes to look sideways at her. "I feel . . . lighter." His hand sought hers of its own volition, for no other reason but for the contact. The pad of his thumb brushed over the back of her hand slowly, the calloused skin grazing over her softness. The hand was warm, his touch strong and sure without being crushing or overwhelming. With another, he would feel foolish saying these things, but he found that with her, he did not. He glanced down at his boots, then glanced over to watch a pair of men in highly inaccurate Steampunk attire display some manner of retro-futuristic device. It looked like a small scale version of the clockwork arachnid from the film Wild, Wild West only with more gears on it. Because more gears meant more Steampunk.<br/><br/>"I do not . . . want you to be embarrassed about yourself around me." He glanced at Kara again, tilting his head in her direction. "You are wonderful, and I . . ." Hallbjorn trailed off. His other hand moved to cup her cheek, and this time, rather than caressing her lip with his thumb, Hallbjorn leaned in and touched his lips to hers. His kiss was firm, but not deep, and as with all things about him there was something guarded and held back.