A Little Less Conversation

Title: A Little Less Conversation
Time Period: July 29, 135 A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: Sometimes talking is totally overrated.

Normally, Cas should be back in the home by this hour. Though occassionally when he has free time he wanders off and comes home with a bag full of apples or berries or a bunch of clean fish— it really depends on the day. The last week or so, after the… confession and his rather emotional reaction, he has been spending extra time at the stables, or out doing various jobs to make extra trade. It may not be that he's avoiding her, exactly, but he hasn't seemed ready for a long talk yet.

Maybe he'll never be.

But every day he shows up with a kiss and a smile and wakes her with a good morning kiss before he heads to the stables in the morning.

That's something.

The door to their part of the McKay house opens rather quietly, the sun already starting to set. His clothing alone might show he was out on the town. When he's out in public view, Cas has a tendancy to dress in his best clothes, often times colorful and clean, nothing he would ever work in, and that's what he's wearing when he steps into the room. A bag is set down next to the door, and he pauses to look down at his hands for a moment. There's a distant look to his eyes, like he's deep in thought, but it's a common look lately. More so than he used to. It distracts him from something a crucial as saying 'I'm home.' for a few moments.

The room is warm, mostly due to the stove being in use, but there is a small fire going in the fireplace as well. It looks like it may have been forgotten about. But Mariah stands in front of the stove, stirring something that smells pretty tempting in a pot. She looks over her shoulder when the door opens, her expression worried at first, but she brushes it away with a smile in the space of a blink.

She doesn't speak a greeting, either, but nods toward the pot as she notes, "Dinner's just about done, if you're hungry." She even manages to sound like everything's normal as ever. Perhaps trying not to prod the subject too much. The fact that she's in a robe rather than her actual clothes probably means she didn't go out herself, not tonight.

"What— oh, yes, I haven't eaten anything for a while," Cas says with a sheepish voice, perhaps realizing how late it is, and— the sight of the robe and smile seems to help carry that sheepish tone. For a moment, he looks quietly struck if that's a term, like he's staring at her and not quite remembering what he was supposed to be doing. It takes a few moments, before he shakes it off.

"Sorry. I— should have come back earlier," he says after a few moments, finally after all this time, apologizing about not being around as much. Or as early as he could have been, in this case. "I went for a walk." And his clothes will need washing because of it. After a moment he starts to remove his shirt, pulling it over his shoulder and setting it aside. To be washed later. Under it remains his pendant… and her own. "What are you making?" he asks, even before he makes it close enough to look.

"You don't have to apologize," Mariah says with a soft chuckle, "There's no curfew that I know of." Plus, old habits of late nights are difficult to break, at least for her. She watches as he takes his shirt off, her smile tilting crooked. "Although, if you're taking your clothes off to make it up, I'm not going to argue."

When he's close enough, she leans over to press a quick kiss to his lips, and while it doesn't linger, her hand slides around to rest on his back. "It's just a stew. I got some meat in trade today, thought it'd be worth putting to good use." Instead of trading it for something better. A closer look proves that there's vegetables and potatoes in there, as well. Hearty, some might call it.

"Well I wasn't planning to completely undress," Cas says after the kiss, leaning against her a bit even as he peeks over her shoulder to look at the hearty meal. If this continues they may make their food burn! Or go cold. They have a tendancy to do that— sometimes. "It smells great," he admits with a small smile, reminded, a little, of what could be called the old days for them. When he'd eat his best with her around.

Now he usually eats pretty well, though meat cooked meat at least, can be a rarity. Unless he saves a clean fish or two for them.

"I went back to the faire folk again. Not to see any of their shows, or anything…" It almost sounds like he's trying to apologize a little.

Mariah tsks a little, the verbal equivalent of a fingersnap, her disappointment playful. Mostly. "Thank you," she says about the compliment to her food, and her smile mirrors his as she looks over at him. Her stirring has become a lazy sort of swirl, but she doesn't seem to mind. Or maybe she just doesn't notice.

It's the mention of the fair that gets her to look back toward the pot, an attempt to cover the hint of embarrassment that creeps into her face. Luckily, she's pretty good at covering up such things, if a little out of practice where he's concerned.

"I keep forgetting you haven't been here for the fair before. What did you see? The rides? They're worth a turn. Maybe two," she says, her tone relaxed as she invites him to elaborate.

"Maybe when we finish eating," Cas says in a soft voice, somewhere between sly and shy, giving some hope to him getting undressed completely. After all she has a talent of getting him out of his clothes… even when he's being shy, and even when he's not sure he wants to talk about things. Clothing off is a way to avoid the long talks, anyway!

Hinting towards other activities also lets him stall on responding to her inequiry. Or invitation.

"I didn't ride on anything, but I probably should, before they leave. If it's as fun as you say. I— went to try and get my fortune read," he says, eyes lowering in a sheepish fashion. "I know it's silly, but— the old lady was pretty cool. Even if her wagon smelled funny."

"Oh, don't you tease me," Mariah protests with a laugh, the most natural expression she's made since he walked in. She does press in a little closer. Apparently she doesn't need the talking to happen for the other activities to have a turn. But then, she's better with the physical, always has been.

"I don't think it's silly. I know it's easy enough to fake it, but at the same time, it isn't too far fetched to believe that a set of tea leaves might know something we don't, aye?" Her tone is a bit playful, but not teasing, not this time. "Was it a good fortune?"

Oh now she's teasing him. Cas closes his eyes as she presses closer, arms sliding around her and holding her in place for a time. It takes his eyes off the food, but he can still smell it— doesn't help he can smell her too, though. They're made so many meals grow cold in the time they've known each other. Usually because of this.

"Not bad," he says quietly, against the fabric of her robe at her shoulder. "I— uh— I'm either easy to read or my whole life is in the lines of my hands like a story is on paper in a book," he says with a hint of a laugh to his voice. "You ever had yours read?" he asks, moving a hand away to seek out the hand that she's not sturing with.

By the time she manages to press a kiss up under his jaw, Mariah's forgotten about stirring and her hand rests on the spoon rather than doing anything productive with it. But at least his speaking up again has her leaning back a little to look at him.

"Well, I can say with some authority that your hands are extremely interesting," she says with a shameless grin. "She got you pegged, did she? It was worth the cost then?" When he asks about her, though, she glances down, letting him take her hand without argument.

"I haven't, no," she says before she tilts her head to look back up at him, her smile softer, bittersweet, even. "They hold a bit of a sad story. I like thinking about the now instead."

"Now is nice," Cas states quietly, still with one hand tight around her, while the other toys with her hand. And presses it up against them to complete the hold, too. He won't comment further on his hands. But he seems warmer at the mention of them. Things are not looking good for the meal being eaten still warm.

He takes in a slow breath of her, before he pulls back enough to look at the food again. "So… how long til you'll get this done, do you think?" he asks in a whispered voice. It seems he's trying to be mindful of… the cost of meat.

Mariah groans just a little in protest when he leans back, and her head tilts when he starts asking sensible questions. She looks from him to the stew and back again, as if actually considering a decision between the two.

She breaks away from him to turn to the stove, bending to adjust the fire a little lower and grabbing a lid to put over the pot, leaving the stew on a much more gentle simmer. When she straightens to look back at him, her smile is just a little too innocent.

"Seems like another hour or so, maybe."

Someone has to think! …Occassionally.

But it seems she's managed to get the better of him, in the slyness department. As she lowers the lid and sets it to a gentle simmer, his eyebrows raise in realization. And then Cas laughs as she smiles innocently, and speaks those words. In response, his hands seek out what's holding her simple robe on and begins to tug.

"What ever will we do with that hour," he teases right back. Less innocently, really. It's hard to be innocent around her. Except for the flush to his cheeks that has little to do with being out in the sun today.

That laugh is echoed, the innocence breaking there. And even when the laugh fades, Mariah's smile remains, however suggestive it becomes. Her gaze slides toward the couch, which is not as comfortable as the bed, but it is closer. Her attention comes back to him at the tug, though, and she steps in closer to him.

"A couple of creative minds like ours, I'm sure we'll think of something."