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thehighlandhealer · 7 years ago

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Day in the Life || Bronwyn, Mason, Aedan, & Lawrence

Bronwyn: Bronwyn wasn't pacing. She wasn't fussing either. She was simply experiencing the appropriate level of excitement for the visit of one of her dearest, most beloved friends after not seeing him for a while.

By making soda bread and tea and rearranging her couch cushions.

And running into Mason's arms the moment he appeared.

Mason: Mason was all too happy to feel those arms, squeezing her within an inch of her life. It was love like that Lawrence didn't mind experiencing from his past self.

"I can smell you've been busy," he chuckled.

Bronwyn: "Well of course I have!" she said with a laugh, squeezing him back with just as much fervor and breathing him in, feeling instantly comforted.

"I couldn't verra well have ye over and no' even have a cup o' tea to offer ye."

Mason: Baking would forever remind him of his daughters. For the life of him, he couldn't recall what they made, though. One of those mysteries his father had created for him.

"Gonna have t'spoil ya back sometime soon."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn grinned at him as she kissed his cheek. "By all means. Won't hear me complainin' about spendin' time with ye." She kissed him again. "So how does tea and soda bread with lots of butter sound?"

Mason: "Sounds perfect. All that's missin' is some smoked salmon. Want me t'get some?"

Bronwyn: "I've already got it covered. I know ye verra well, Mason Atlas." She took his arm and led him into the kitchen, where their tea and food were already laid out and waiting for them.

Mason: Once settled, Bronwyn was pulled to his knee. There was a revenant, yes. He knew that and didn't care. "How is my favorite druid?"

Bronwyn: "Missin' her baby boy that's no' really a baby boy anymore," she sighed, leaning against him. There was indeed a revenant now, but she and Mason had always been affectionate. It was part of their friendship. "When did he become an adult? He was seventeen and callin' me mama for the first time five minutes ago."

Mason: "Oh, here I thought ya meant the wee one," he smirked. "Now you're gonna smother the other one. I know."

Bronwyn: "I'm goin' to try really hard no' to. That's why I have the shop and why I'm lookin' into buildin' a stable."

Mason: "Ya don't have empty nest syndrome, woman."

Bronwyn: "My nest is half empty. And quiet."

Mason: "With a baby boy? Impossible." Oh, but there was a long pause. "You're wantin' another, aren't ya?"

Bronwyn: "I've gotten spoiled to havin' a house full of people all the time. Forgot what it was like to be mostly alone for long periods o' time."

She barely blinked at how easily he guessed. He knew her. "Aye," she said with a nod. "I really am."

Mason: "I can't say one way or another. Eleanor and Lucy were barely apart in age. You're gonna...with that new fellow, hmm?"

Bronwyn: "Maybe. I'm definitely goin' to have a baby with him but I might no' have a baby with him. There are factors to consider."

Mason: "Factors?" His interest was purely for her and not the man she was with.

Bronwyn: "Aye. Apparently a revenant pregnancy is just a weeeeee bit longer than a normal pregnancy."

Mason: "Surprised they can breed at all."

Bronwyn: "It takes a while but aye, it can be done. So we're either goin' to adopt or we're goin' to have to find a loophole."

Mason: "Well, ya did that the last time, n'that was before they decided t'include ya as the mother." Which he hadn't approved of, but oh well.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn kissed his cheek. Even if she'd never gotten a chance to step into the role of mother to Aedan, she could never be sorry for having him.

"I'm his mama now, that's all that matters. And I want to be a mama again. Just goin' to have to do some research."

She kissed him yet again. "Know of any spells to speed up a pregnancy?"

Mason: A spell? There probably was, but he had something better. Mason turned his attention to her, smiled again. "Make me godfather, n'ya can have it with a kiss, love."

Bronwyn: She blinked as a smile slowly broke out over her face. "Ye'd do that for me? Ye'd help me and Torsten have a baby?"

Mason: "I'd help you with your mission to be a mother t'many."

Bronwyn: Helping her automatically meant helping Torsten, but she knew Mason knew that. She also knew the distinction was important to him.

Bronwyn squeezed Mason tightly. "Thank ye. I have to talk to him about it first but thank ye so much."

Mason: The distinction was this: It didn't matter who the man was, so long as he wasn't another demon. It didn't matter that his name was Torsten. It could have been a Jim or a Tyron. She was happy and that had to count for something, even if he'd never love her counterpart.

"Ya have t'talk t'him first?" he laughed. "It's begun," he groaned.

Bronwyn: "Yes it has," she chuckled, poking him in the ribs. "It'll be his baby too and hence also his decision. Besides, we're no' even married yet."

Mason: "Exactly, you're not even married yet." That was one memory Crowley hadn't stolen. When Dahlia had become pregnant with Angelica they had become engaged, married before she began to show.

Bronwyn: "Aye, which means we have plenty o' time."

She poured their tea, served their food. "Now tell me, how've ye been? How's Charles?"

Mason: He wanted her back on his lap, but refrained. For now. Now was time for Earl Gray, two teaspoons of sugar.

"Charles n'I...are doin' well. Too well."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn's brow furrowed. "Too well? What do ye mean?"

Mason: "I mean m'not used t'the bliss."

Bronwyn: "Bliss is a good thing. A happy thing. Ye've more than earned yer share of bliss, love."

Mason: "Of course ya got the gall t'say that." He kissed her cheek.

Bronwyn: She smiled. "Obviously. I love ye."

Mason: "You've been my crazy since day one."

Bronwyn: "I have indeed."

Bronwyn: She kissed his forehead and settled in with him again.

Mason: His arms were concrete in embrace. "Kissing your lips is now out of the question. I hate him already," he frowned.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn chuckled and shook her head. "Ye and Lirim just hate the thought o' havin' to share me. Ye're allowed a wee, angelic peck."

Mason: "I don't want wee angelic pecks." To think he agreed on something with the man whose arm he had broken years before. Small, uncomfortable world.

Bronwyn: "How about friend pecks?"

Mason: The demon sighed, but in good humor. He still didn't like sharing her, not even with Aedan's fathers. "I suppose."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn just chuckled and nuzzled him. "There ye go. How's the food?"

Mason: "It's perfect," he sighed. "Why didn't I ask ya t'be mine? Somethin' self-loathin' n'knowin' what's best... S'how my head works," he mused.

Bronwyn: "And here I spent a good long time with a giant crush on ye." She snuggled into him. "I would've been yers without a moment's hesitation. Guess it just wasn't in the cards."

Mason: "It wasn't," he affirmed. "It's bad enough Charles loves me. You're all fools."

Bronwyn: "Nonsense, we're all geniuses for lovin' ye."

Mason: "Then you're a fool for makin' me keep Lawrence."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn rested her forehead against Mason's. She knew his feelings for him very, very well. "Maybe," she said softly. But I couldn't not. "How is he?"

Mason: "Bein' me, ya'd think he'd be fine. He's shit." He could feel him inside, curling himself away.

Bronwyn: That had her frowning. "Why? Did somethin' happen?"

Mason: "I wouldn't know where to begin."

Bronwyn: Now that did not bode well at all. "Christ. That bad?"

Mason: "Had it been me it would not have ended the way it did. As it stands, Lawrence forgot all of his power or refused t'use em. Either way, he's just...useless now."

Bronwyn: Useless more than likely meant he'd experienced some form of trauma, and that was the last thing she wanted for him. "Does he need to come out for a while? He can curl up upstairs."

Mason: "Last I grabbed him he screamed. Now he won't come out." Much easier to deal with, save for that nagging little sensation at the back of his neck.

Bronwyn: "Did he want ye to grab him?"

Mason: He began to lean back in his seat. "No, but I wasn't leavin' him in Edenton."

Bronwyn: "Of course whatever happened was in Edenton," she sighed. "I swear that entire town is under a bad star."

Mason: "How have ya lived your entire life without this sort of drama? It's everywhere."

Bronwyn: "There's been plenty o' drama, I've just never seen it so concentrated in one place before."

Mason: "Then don't ever linger in Chicago, or London. Dealin' with a reaper in the prime of youth is nothin' t'vampiric politics."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn frowned. "Reaper? A reaper hurt him?"

Mason: "They we're playin' a little game... nothin' he shouldn't have been able t'handle. Shit I've done t'others - Human, not the damned. He told him no sex, the reaper didn't see exposin' him n'touchin' it t'be sex." A dismissive hand said so much more.

Bronwyn: The frown got louder. "So this reaper completely ignored the boundaries Lawrence set for the situation and judgin' by the fact that Lawrence is now hidden away, this reaper also made no attempt to apologize or make things right."

Mason: "He sobbed in my arms tryin' t'talk t'him. He came out, they talked, n'then suddenly the reaper hates the very air he breathes."

Bronwyn: "If anyone should hate anyone, Lawrence should hate him. There's no way a normal person could spin this to make Lawrence the one in the wrong."

Mason: "Mm." He squinted. "I think the point was to prove Lawrence shouldn't be into S&M? I dunno." Didn't care.

Bronwyn: "No' that I have any experience with S&M, but even I know a central component is respectin' the word 'no' or whatever word ye agree means 'no'."

She scowled into her tea. "Whoever this reaper is, he seems determined no' to accept blame for anythin'."

Mason: "He was for a minute. I think he got bored by feelin' or pretendin' t'be guilty. Ya know how reapers are. Maybe ya don't. Odd breed of reaper he is."

Bronwyn: "The only reapers I know have a verra good understandin' of peoples' boundaries." She sipped again. "Odd indeed. And a bloody damn asshole to boot."

Mason: "How many reapers do ya know?"

Bronwyn: "Just a couple. Don't come across them too often, which makes sense considerin' their profession."

Mason: "Ever met ones that call themselves soldiers?"

Bronwyn: She nodded. "Is he one of them?"

Mason: "Mhm. Nothin' like that one that almost killed me."

Bronwyn: "A reaper almost killed ye?! When?"

Mason: "It was a while ago, love. Nothin' t'worry about."

Bronwyn: "No more reapers for ye and Lawrence."

Mason: "Oh, darlin', I'll be fine. Lawrence..." He shook his head.

Bronwyn: "Lawrence needs to be fine, too."

Mason: "Bleedin' heart ya are."

Bronwyn: "Yes I am," she said with a smile. "And ye love me for it."

Mason: "I love much about ya, havin' Lawrence in my life isn't one of em."

Bronwyn: She kissed his temple. "I know, love."

Mason: "Can't we end it now? Bein' destined for Callum was the only reason I held my tongue. He failed. He's miserable. Just let me." The great and powerful crossroads demon needed her permission.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn shook her head gently. "I'm sorry, love, but I can't let ye do that. He has a life and someone who loves him. I have to keep him safe. I know ye hate him but please, do this for me. If the two of ye want, he can stay here for a while and recover from what happened to him."

Mason: "Misery loves company, darlin'. Don't let him suck ya in with pity."

Bronwyn: "It's no' pity." It was love. The same love she had for Mason because Lawrence was Mason.

"What do ye say? Will ye leave him with me?"

Mason: A sigh. "If he decides t'come out."

Bronwyn: She smiled and gave him a squeeze. "Thank ye, love."

Mason: Whatever was closest was kissed and nuzzled. "D'ya have the little one with ya?"

Bronwyn: "As a matter of fact, I do," she said, smile growing. "He should be wakin' up soon."

Mason: "Still taking naps?" He frowned, unable to remember what was normal for his little girls.

Bronwyn: "Aye. They're startin' to get less frequent but he's still takin' them."

Mason: "What's he got from you?"

Bronwyn: "My chin and love o' gardenin'."

Mason: "What else?"

Bronwyn: She smiled. "His Druid is startin' to rear its head. He's makin' flowers bloom, and die when he's cranky."

Mason: "Combine that with whatever else he's got, he can be...a handful, I bet." Dangerous.

Bronwyn: "He can be, but only in the sense that he's a toddler. Ye get the occasional burst o' power when we're out somewhere but so far it hasn't caused any big problems. I'd forgotten how good humans are at tellin' themselves anything supernatural is just their imagination."

Mason: "One day you're gonna come across one of those unique humans that doesn't excuse away what they'd seen. You've seen the horror movies."

Bronwyn: "Aye," she sighed, nodding. "If and when that day comes, I'm prepared. In human and supernatural terms."

Mason: "Prepared how?"

Bronwyn: "Wards, spells, and weapons."

Mason: His smile widened. "That's how you're gonna remove the threat of a panicked human?"

Bronwyn: "I have a system. Or well, a potential system. Wards to prevent any chance of a human seein' somethin', spells to make them forget if they do see and/or to distract them, and weapons to defend myself and Aedan with if said human turns violent."

Mason: "You're goin' a mile and a half for your boy. I wouldn't have taken ya for the type t'fuck with a human's head."

Bronwyn: "I will fuck with a thousand humans' heads if that's what it takes to keep my baby safe."

Mason: "Ya sure you're done lovin' me?"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Romantically, aye, I'm afraid so. I'll never be done lovin' ye in all the other ways."

Mason: "You're more wicked than I give ya credit for."

Bronwyn: "I'm a mama."

Mason: "N'what would your mama think 'bout ya toyin' with other people's minds?"

Bronwyn: "It was her idea."

Bronwyn: "Druid mothers are lionesses."

Mason: It felt out of character for a loving species of healers to invade someone else's mind with memory spells. She had been so broken about his own issue with Lawrence and here she was, claiming motherly instincts. He couldn't have had her pegged wrong for years, but...maybe he'd grown soft.

"Interestin'."

Bronwyn: "I've seen too many people I love suffer at the hands of other people and felt helpless because of it. Ye, Lucien, Lirim. I don't want someone to hurt Aedan if I can stop it from happenin'. If I can prevent it, I will, but if push comes to shove, I'll shove."

Mason: "You're tellin' me all the wrong things, darlin'. Don't make me fall in love," he smirked.

Bronwyn: She laughed. "Drink yer tea before we make Bronwyn from three years ago swoon and then cry."

Mason: Mason's eyes remained on her as he sipped his drink. He knew damn well what he was doing.

Bronwyn: "Quit lookin' at me like that," she chuckled. "Ye're havin' far too much fun with my old crush on ye."

Mason: "We woulda had mind-blowin' sex."

Bronwyn: "We would've had mind-blowin' ev'rythin', darlin'."

Mason: "Now ya have...whatever," he grinned.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn grinned back. "As do you. We're only havin' that mind-blowin' sex in some parallel universe."

Mason: "Ya like that?"

Bronwyn: "The thought of us bein' together in another universe?"

Mason: "N'bein' the greatest couple the world has ever seen."

Bronwyn: "Oh we would be, huh?" She smiled and rested her forehead against his. "Bronwyn from three years ago loves the idea. Present Bronwyn finds the idea that there are multiple universes where we're in each other's lives comfortin' and lovely."

Mason: His eyes closed, enjoyed her and loved her nearness. "Alright...enough of that," he whispered.

Bronwyn: "Okay," she whispered back, kissing his nose. She couldn't seem to stop loving on him. She had a long time to make up for.

Mason: Mason was smiling due to the affection. "Tell me more things. Anything."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled. "My store's comin' along. It looks so much lovelier than I ever could've imagined."

Mason: "Oh yeah? D'ya have it all autumn themed with orange, black, and what, green?"

Bronwyn: "I have autumn decorations up but the shop itself is mauve with emerald green and honey wood accents."

Mason: "I'll have to see the place first hand."

Bronwyn: "Do ye want to?" she asked, brightening. "It's no' far."

Mason: "Alright. Ya done with tea? Ya hardly touched it."

Bronwyn: "We'll go after tea. Ye need to eat more."

Mason: "Why do I need t'eat more?"

Bronwyn: She smiled. "Because yer beloved Bronwyn says so."

Mason: "N'Charles thinks I'm wickedly pale after all that happened."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn leaned back a bit to get a good look at him. "Well, he's no' wrong."

Mason: "It's nothin' t'concern yourself with. Either of ya."

Bronwyn: "Of course we're concerned. We love ye."

Mason: "It's just a tan I've lost, that's all."

Bronwyn: "Ye sure?"

Mason: "No, not at all. I'm so confused, the world makes no sense now that I'm pale."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn squinted at him. "All right, all right. I'll stop fussin'."

Mason: "Thank you." He kissed her cheek and finished his tea.

Bronwyn: "Anythin' for you." She followed suit, subtly trying to encourage him to take an extra nibble of food.

Mason: "I eat!" he laughed. "N'might I remind ya I don't have to."

Bronwyn: "Perhaps no' but it never hurts."

Mason: "How about a proper dinner out. The two of us n'the baby."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn's face lit up. "Oh, yes, let's do that! It'll be lovely!"

Mason: "Where d'ya wanna go? What are ya cravin'?"

Bronwyn: "Gumbo," she said after a moment's consideration. "And corn bread. And pie."

Mason: "New Orleans has changed ya."

Bronwyn: She chuckled. "It is nice havin' choices beyond burgers and steak. Havin' fresh seafood whenever I want it is a magical, magical thing. How I survived bein' landlocked for so many years after growin' up on an island is a mystery to me."

Mason: "Somethin' about Montana took ya, despite goin' against your will."

Bronwyn: "Aye, it did. And I did love livin' in my wee little house."

Mason: "Ya miss it?"

Bronwyn: "Sometimes. I miss the snow. And the lack o' humidity."

Mason: "Ya really wanna raise Aedan here? Gonna be speakin' that Creole French with a southern accent. Ya heard those people?" said the man with a Yorkshire-New Orleans mix. He had no room to judge.

Bronwyn: "New Orleans is home now," she said, smiling softly. "Aedan was born here, my friends are here, my house and store are here. I always used to imagine movin' back to Scotland but now I can't imagine livin' anywhere but here."

She laughed. "He says 'aye' instead o' yes half the time and 'wee' instead o' little, he'll speak a mix o' Scottish and New Orleans."

Mason: "When...when I had children... I think I recall tricking them with words. Instead of "Look!" I taught them t'say, "Behold!" and Old English phrases."

Bronwyn: "That is adorable. I should do the same with Scottish phrases. He started sayin' 'loavmercy'."

Mason: One more kiss to her cheek. "Let's get ready, then."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled just as tiny fussing sounds started up from the monitor on the counter.

"Perfect timin'. Let me go get him."

Mason/Aedan: The druid's shoulder was kissed as she passed. When it came to the emotional reading range of Aedan, Xavier had nearly failed his scrutiny. Mason would have as much luck and it didn't matter how much time had passed since he'd last seen the child. There would be whimpers of uncertainty, and the demon would keep his distance. He didn't mind. He was impressed by the toddler's instinct.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn would do her best to make sure Aedan was comfortable around Mason, even if he was still on the fence about him.

"It'll be all right, love," she told him as she dressed him. "Mama's got the green light for ye if ye need it and we can have ice cream after dinner." She kissed his hair. "I know Mason feels a wee bit funny to ye, but he's a friend, okay? Mason's nice."

Mason/Aedan: After the odd dream and the strange sensation, Aedan was having none of seeing the demon face-to-face. He would be buried in his mother's chest, hiding away the best he could. Mason only smiled.

"I'll have to keep away, hmm? That's fine, little man."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn gave Mason an apologetic smile. "Aye, sorry, darlin'," she said, grabbing her shawl and wrapping it around herself and Aedan with her free hand. "He's still gettin' used to people that aren't like me or Lirim or Lirim's boyfriend."

She kissed the top of her son's head again as she bundled him close to her. "He seems to like spendin' time in my shop though. Maybe that'll bring him around a wee."

Mason: "A little druid at heart he is. It's alright." Wrapped in her shawl, he had to chuckle. "What are ya gonna do 'bout them curls? The devil take em, they're long!"

Bronwyn: "Tame them as best I can," said Bronwyn, laughing softly. "He absolutely refuses to let us cut them so I just pin them back so he can see."

Mason: "Ya pin em back? Show me this. I've only seen curls like that on a handful of people." His wife, his daughter, Ronan Archer, and Ailbe Lynott. Now a fifth.

Bronwyn: "Aye. He won't sit still for the brush but he doesn't seem to mind his smiley face clips."

She grabbed a couple from her pocket and encouraged Aedan to lift his head so she could section his hair and pin it up and back so it was out of his face.

Mason: "That's too adorable to be right."

Bronwyn: She laughed. "That seems to be the general consensus. Ye should see how many people stop me on the street to gush over his hair."

Mason: "How many mistake him for a girl?"

Bronwyn: "Only one person has openly said somethin', but she looked about eighty and had glasses as thick as beer bottles."

Mason: "Are you the type to..." What was that new age ideology? "The gender issue people have these days...? I don't know how to explain it. I'm too old for it."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn frowned and tilted her head. "People have a gender issue?" She was even further out of the loop than he was. "I'm a Scot, I'm used to seein' men in skirts," she chuckled.

Mason: "This is true," he smiled. "Then be damned with what people think." That was his motto.

Bronwyn: "Hear, hear," she said brightly, kissing her baby's cheek. "Now let's go get some food so I can show ye my shop." Right after she grabbed Aedan's stroller.

Aedan: Aedan wasn't going to be satisfied unless he could see the strange man at all times. He didn't like what he felt from him and he certainly didn't want him near his mama. Whenever the demon stepped within a foot of her the toddler would begin to fuss.

Bronwyn: It was a good thing Aedan had been asleep when the love fest between her and Mason was going on downstairs; if he'd been awake he never would've allowed it.

"I think we know which species is strongest in ye, love," she said to him, doing her best to soothe and comfort him. "It's okay, baby. Mason's a friend. Sorry," she added to her beloved demon, giving him what must have been the millionth apologetic smile as they entered the restaurant.

Mason: "I can't say that. Ya can't say it, either. He has a lot of ya in him. That worry is a part of ya, too."

Bronwyn: For some reason that made Bronwyn smile. Besides physical features the similarities between her and Aedan weren't always obvious. She didn't really mind that--after all, it didn't make him any less hers--but it made her strangely proud when she got reminders that her Druid was part of him too.

"Aye, I suppose it is. He has my worry gene." And probably the fussing gene.

Mason: "How many of y'all are worriers?"

Bronwyn: "I think we all are to some extent, but Lirim seems better at calmin' down than I am. I think so, at least."

Mason: "N'then it's all condensed in your little boy," he chuckled.

Bronwyn: "It is, poor thing." She chuckled and kissed Aedan's hair. "Let's hope he's good at calmin' down too."

She looked around for a table and spotted one by the window. "That one?" she asked Mason.

Mason: "Mhm." Anyone could make the assumption that they were a couple; the fault wouldn't lie in their eyes. Pulling out her chair, there was humor in the demon's eyes. Indeed, someone had complimented them as a beautiful young couple. A nearby elderly woman. Her thought was shared with the druid as he took his seat.

Bronwyn: "Thank ye, love," Bronwyn said as she sat. She thought about asking a waitress for a booster seat for Aedan, but she doubted he'd want to be apart from her now when he hadn't wanted to be apart from her on the walk over here.

The woman's thought made her smile. "Well we are three verra beautiful people. Can't blame her really."

Mason/Aedan: She'd been correct in her assumption. It might have been uncomfortable, but her lap was the only acceptable seat today. Mason would made attempts to alleviate the toddler's justified tension. Little smiles, soft tone, hands always in sight.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn appreciated every single one. Even if they didn't calm Aedan completely, they could at least reassure him a little.

Along with food.

"Hey, there! Oh, aren't you a little cutie pie!" said their waitress, coming over with notepad in hand and beaming at Aedan. "What can I getcha'll to drink?"

"I'll have a sweet tea, and some grape juice for my laddie here."

"Yes, ma'am. And you, sir?"

Mason/Aedan: "Beer. Guinness, please." His attention was still on her child. As soon as the waitress disappeared, the salt and pepper shakers began to dance. Oh, see, that delighted him.

Bronwyn: "One sweet tea, one grape juice, and one Guinness, comin' right up."

Bronwyn kept watch for any attention being drawn while Mason put on a little show for her son, grinning all the while. "He loves when people make things dance. And makin' things dance himself, especially hair."

Mason: "How many powers are ya gonna have when ya get older, hmm? Wolfie angel druid. You're gonna take the world by storm."

Bronwyn: "Yes he is," Bronwyn said proudly. "I can't wait to see his powers emerge and grow. He's got his little wolf ears ev'ry full moon and his telekinesis and whatever ye call that power we Druids have that lets us borrow light."

Mason: "He borrows light?"

Bronwyn: "He's startin' to be able to. I still have to help him, of course, but he's showin' real promise."

Mason: "Seems evenly distributed still, y'all's powers."

Bronwyn: She nodded. "Aye, they are. I have a feelin' it's goin' to stay that way as he grows up. I hope it does." She wanted Aedan to embrace all parts of his supernatural heritage.

The waitress brought over their drinks and gave them a few moments to decide what to order.

"What are ye in the mood for, love?" she asked Aedan. "Want to share some shrimp and grits with mama?"

Mason: Mason leaned back in his seat and studied the beautiful woman across from him. He'd missed an opportunity but still gained so much. He had Charles, and perhaps with time and patience a child to help raise. He was still a moth, drawn to those angelic flames in all forms.

"Does he eat red meat? ... The wolf in him."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn just smiled at him. No matter how much time passed or who came into their lives, Mason would always be the platonic love of her life.

"Does he ever," she chuckled. "I think he loves my lasagna more than Lucien does."

Mason: "How brave have ya gotten? Raw meat? Mid-rare steak? What does-" what was his damn name? "What did Lucien do as a child?"

Bronwyn: "He doesn't really have an animal form apart from growin' little ears on the full moon so I haven't really considered givin' him raw meat. Lucien and Leilani eat it but they have animal forms. Aedan does seem to favor medium-rare meat though."

Mason: Mason leaned back in his seat and sighed. Thoughts which had been spinning in debate were slowly coming into focus. Watching how Bronwyn interacted with her son made him certain. He was going to suggest she speak to Charles sometime soon.

"I feel like a broken record. My only memories and experiences are fragments."

Bronwyn: "I know, darlin'," she said softly, reaching across the table for his hand. "Those fragments aren't without their value though. They helped me when I was pregnant with this wee one. To this day I carry candied ginger in my purse."

Mason: "Going to start buying you ginger everything. Name your next child Ginger in my honor," he smirked.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. "Don't be so quick to joke, I might just do it. Ginger's a cute name."

Mason: "Ginger MacAllister," he mused. "Your next child should have your surname."

Bronwyn: "They will. It might be hyphenated, but they will."

Mason: "I'm surprised by your choice of man."

Bronwyn: "Really? Why?"

Mason: "An immortal?"

Bronwyn: "Ah, yes. It surprised me, too, at first but considerin' how crazy my life is, someone immortal is the only choice that makes sense."

Mason: "Are you going to choose immortality for yourself?"

Bronwyn: "I don't even know if I'm ever goin' to get that choice. The Fae don't offer that gift verra often. But if they did..."

Mason: "If they did?"

Bronwyn: "If they did...I think I would."

Mason: "It doesn't have to be your only option."

Bronwyn: "You wouldn't happen to know a spell that can slow agin' to almost nothin', would ye?"

Mason: "A few spells originated by witches."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn made a face.

Mason: "Don't sneer. They have very excellent work."

Bronwyn: "Most witches are two-bit magicians. They might as well be pullin' a rabbit out of a cheap top hat."

Mason: "Who have you experienced?" he laughed.

Bronwyn: "Once ye meet one half-assed witch, ye've met them all."

Mason: "I think we've been a part of two very different crowds. Met a man nearly two hundred years old. An excellent witch, gambled for his youth. Literally."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn squinted. She supposed if Mason thought this witch was excellent then he probably was.

"It sounds like he has actual magical ability."

Mason: "Yes. Any human can, but an excellent witch has an innate gift."

Bronwyn: "Those are the ones I can actually respect. No' the people who just buy a bunch of crystals and dress in all black."

Mason: "Those are imitators."

Bronwyn: "Aye, and no' only are they verra bad imitators, they're unbelievably irritatin'."

Their waitress returned with their drinks and asked, "Are ya'll ready to order?"

Mason: Craving something bloody, he ordered a rare steak medallion over pappardelle.

"So, the help you have at your shop...?"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn ordered shrimp and grits and seafood gumbo, and an extra plate for Aedan.

"Human with a surprisin' amount o' knowledge about magic and even more surpisin' amount of enthusiasm for makin' soap."

Mason: "So, a witch?"

Bronwyn: "I don't think he's ever attempted magic."

Mason: "Are you going to encourage it?"

Bronwyn: "If he chooses to pursue it, aye. He's a good student."

Mason: "Trust him?"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Aye, I do. He's smart and capable and careful."

Mason: "Won't be recording any magic for YouTube. I will show him consequences."

Bronwyn: She smiled. "While I appreciate the sentiment behind the threat, if Ashley ever records magic for YouTube I'll handle him."

Mason: "Aw, won't let me?"

Bronwyn: "You'll scare him," she chuckled. "He might look like a grown man but he's actually an adorable marshmallow."

Mason: "You seem to collect those."

Bronwyn: "This one found me. Or rather he was intrigued by the logo bein' painted on my shop windows."

Mason: "Are ya gonna tell him the truth?"

Bronwyn: "About me bein' a Druid and my good friend Vincent bein' my familiar?"

Mason: "And your husband bein' a demon, and your other-other thing bein' a vampire's creation."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn chuckled. "Well, he knows about me bein' a Druid but he doesn't know about anyone else."

Mason: "He probably has a religious image in mind, and not the reality."

Bronwyn: "Oh no, he's got the reality in mind. He accidentally walked in on me while I was calmin' myself with my green light."

Mason: "Did he scream?"

Bronwyn: "I believe his exact words were, 'DUUUUUUUDE HOLY SHIT YOU'RE REAL!'"

Mason: He laughed. "And ya don't want me to worry about a hidden camera?"

Bronwyn: "Absolutely no'," Bronwyn laughed. "Ashley isn't goin' to record me. He's just verra interested in whether actual Druids are anythin' like Druids in World o' Warcraft."

Mason: Mason shook his head, humor tempered. "How can ya be so trustin' I don't understand."

Bronwyn: "He gave me his word. In the grand scheme that doesn't mean much, but it does to me. I have a gut feelin' about him. He's good people."

Mason: "Ever had that good feelin' fail?"

Bronwyn: "Only once."

Mason: "A boy?"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Aye. When I first moved to Montana. I think I've mentioned him before. Travis Reynolds?"

Mason: "That's been your only failure?" he scoffed.

Bronwyn: "My gut feelin's are powerful things. I'm a Druid."

Mason: "I can argue against that and point out past lovers and myself," he smirked.

Bronwyn: "Ye're a gut feelin' that was absolutely right, Mason Atlas. A few o' those lovers were...verra bad judgment on my part, no' gut feelin's. Except for Travis."

Mason: "No gut feelin' t'tell me what ya wanted from me?" he asked softly.

Bronwyn: "Ye were with someone," she said just as softly. "And ye loved him."

Mason: "What can I say? I love angels."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled. "Aye, I know."

Mason: "You're an angel."

Bronwyn: "Darlin', ye've known me long enough to know I'm no' an angel."

Mason: "Don't ya know angels aren't saints?"

Bronwyn: Her face softened. "Then it's a good thing I'm no saint."

Mason: "You've seen your share. Think he was? Or Aedan's father?" He shook his head. "Angels. I fall hard and fast for that righteous power and sense of entitlement bathed in good intentions."

Bronwyn: "I have. Seen my share of sinners, too."

Bronwyn reached across the table for Mason's hand. "Ye get gut feelin's too. It's no' just the righteous power and sense of entitlement that grabs ye."

Mason: "No, I've grown shallow since I died." He kissed her hand, caressed it. "I love beautiful things. I love bein' loved. I also have enough sanity to give ya a chance with someone else."

Bronwyn: "Ye know me bein' with someone else doesn't mean ye won't still be loved, right? I adore ye, Mason Atlas. That hasn't changed."

Mason: "Ya know the kinda love we coulda had is much different, much heavier."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "I know. Another life, another time, less people in between us and we could've had it."

Mason: "Maybe still," he smirked, "if ya don't become immortal. If bein' a soulmate really stands for nothin' anymore, I have no one else t'fight for but Charles, n'one life with me m'sure he'll be plenty tired."

Bronwyn: "Mind yer cheek, Mason Atlas," she chuckled. "Charles is deliriously in love with ye." Bronwyn squeezed his hand again. "He will no' get tired of havin' a life with ye."

Mason: "So does that mean he was meant to be my soulmate, and not my wife?"

Bronwyn: "I don't know, love. Fate's always been a fickle bi--" Baby present! "Fickle creature. I wish I could tell ye what was intended."

Mason: "He's across from a demon and you're worried about curses," he laughed.

Bronwyn: "A demon with an exceptionally clean vocabulary," Bronwyn said with a smile, leaning back as the waitress came over with their food and Aedan's extra plate.

Mason: "Exceptionally clean around you...most of the time."

A second extra plate was requested, a small twirled forkful of pasta and a chopped piece of steak placed on it and offered by Aedan's other sample.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn grinned and looked down at Aedan. "What do we say, love?"

Mason/Aedan: "Tap Tap - Tapadh leat!"

Mason chuckled.

Bronwyn: "That's right!" She gave Aedan a huge kiss on the cheek. "Ye're such a polite wee laddie." She pulled a small fork out of her purse and put it in his hand.

Mason: "Do all mothers do that, or is that just ye?"

Bronwyn: "I'd like to think it's all mothers. He does well with regular-sized spoons but he can't quite get a grip on forks yet."

Mason/Aedan: A bite of his meal was offered to her, keeping quiet for the majority, watching for any signs that her child was using magic in public. After their meal and a cup of tea, he flagged for their check.

"Ready for some walkin', or ya wanna be carried?"

Aedan looked to his mother, some sauce still on his cheek.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn followed suit, letting the companionable silence reign as they ate and periodically saving bits of Aedan's food from falling to the floor. It was one of the loveliest meals she'd had and she loved every moment of it.

She smiled down at her baby boy, wiping the sauce from his cheek. "What do ye say, love? Want to walk with mama?"

Aedan: So full of food, he didn't want to walk. He didn't want anything but his mama and her arms. No one else was of interest; no one else mattered, including the strange man in red and black.

Bronwyn: "Goin' to take that as a no," she chuckled, tucking Aedan back in her shawl and kissing his hair. She had to take advantage of every opportunity she got to carry him around because one day soon (hopefully not too soon) he was going to be too big.

She turned back to Mason. "Thoughts on stoppin' off for ice cream for later?"

Mason: "After your shop, if that's what ya want. Ya know I'll go wherever ya want."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled. "Ye're a love. And ye're takin' some for Charles, too." She got to her feet and placed her purse in Aedan's stroller. "Shall we?"

Mason/Aedan: "We shall indeed." He was going to pay for lunch and follow her out, returning to his arm's length as despite being tired, Aedan still wouldn't have his nearness.

Bronwyn: Aedan might have been set on maintaining his constant vigilance, but that didn't mean Bronwyn wasn't going to try to distract him.

"Are ye excited about goin' to the shop, lovely? Ashley's there right now."

Aedan: The man with the untamed hair like static? Yes! His approval was made obvious with applause. Bring him to the funny looking man. He had some hair to pull.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. She knew that would cheer him up. "Just don't pull his hair too hard, okay? Be gentle with Ashley."

Aedan: He began to pet the air as a demonstration that he would indeed be gentle.

Bronwyn: "There's a good lad," she said, smiling with approval as she kissed his cheek.

She turned to Mason. "Ye be gentle, too."

Mason: "Why?" he seemed offended by the demand. He wasn't.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn squinted playfully. "Because I don't want to have to hire someone else."

Mason: "Ugh. You're too soft." He kissed her cheek. "I'll be gentle with the wee human."

Bronwyn: "And there's another good lad," she chuckled. "Thank ye, darlin'. Just wait and see, ye'll like him."

A couple of blocks, a right turn, another block, and a quick jog across the street and they arrived at the corner that housed Salt Circle and its impeccable window displays.

Mason/Aedan: Mason began to slow as they reached the shop, long enough to admire her little brick building before jogging ahead to open the door.

"Ashy! Ashy!" Aedan called. "Ashy play!" It seemed the shop was already synonymous with playtime.

Bronwyn/Ashley: While Mason admired, Bronwyn beamed with pride. She could still hardly believe it was real and hers.

They were barely a few steps past the door when Aedan's delighted call had Ashley popping up from behind the counter.

"Hey, it's the little man! Hi, kiddo! Hi, boss and boss' friend!"

"Afternoon, Ashley," said Bronwyn, smiling as she unwrapped Aedan. "Someone wants to play. Gentle though, we just had lunch."

Mason/Aedan: Play had to be treated very carefully indoors. Having discovered the power of walking, there was also running, lots of it, and Aedan paid no mind to the many delicate items neatly he stacked and hung and draped over every shelf and hook.

Mason watched, tried to remember a similar instance with his own children. Only one came to mind, and it felt as though he'd filled in more holes with his own imagination than with truth.

To occupy himself, he kissed the druid's shoulder when the human had his back turned.

Bronwyn/Ashley: "Mind the breakables, Ashley!" Bronwyn called after them, smiling over at Mason before turning back to Ashley. "Merchandise and body parts alike!"

"Will do, boss!"

Confident that Aedan was in good hands, she left them to play while she turned to Mason again. "So this is my shop! What do ye think?"

Mason: "It feels very you," said in soft tone. The warm aesthetics and familiar items made with loving care reminded him of why he loved her in the first place.

"It feels...like the night we met."

Bronwyn: That was the highest compliment anyone could give about her shop because that's what she wanted it to be. Hers, and hers alone.

"Like the night we met?" she asked, silently encouraging him to continue.

Mason: "Open and invitin'. Guess they mean the same thing."

Bronwyn: "Kind of, but no' really. An open door isn't always a door ye want to go through."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad it's both. Today and the night we met."

Mason: "I still don't understand why ya didn't finish me off."

Bronwyn: "Ye needed me," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Finishin' ye off never crossed my mind."

Mason: "I was a bloody demon on your doorstep."

Bronwyn: "I didn't know ye were a demon. Ye were just a bloody man who needed my help."

Mason: "Pain sexually aroused me n'ya said nothin' about it."

Bronwyn: "My only concern was puttin' ye back together."

Mason: The demon scoffed. "My crazy druid."

Bronwyn: She smiled. "I've healed a lot of people over the years. I've seen ev'ry possible reaction to pain."

Mason: "That doesn't make it alright."

Bronwyn: "Ancient history, darlin'. Healin's a messy business, why do ye think we're all so good at gettin' blood out of ev'ry possible fabric and surface?"

Mason: "Because we're obsessed with red."

Bronwyn: "And the red gets ev'rywhere."

Bronwyn kissed his cheek. "I've never, ever regretted savin' ye, Mason."

Mason: You're biased and willingly look away from the carnage in my wake.

"This new man better be Mr. Fuckin' Perfect for ya."

Bronwyn: She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Perhaps she was biased, but just now that didn't matter to her. She adored this man.

"I think he might be," Bronwyn whispered.

Mason: "So you continue to say. I suppose I just have to accept it."

Bronwyn: "Aye, but only until ye meet him for yerself, and when ye do ye have to promise me ye'll be nice."

Mason: "Ya think I'd be cruel?"

Bronwyn: "No, no' cruel. Maybe just alert, protective, and vaguely threatenin'."

Mason: "I'll be threatenin' regardless."

Bronwyn: "I know. I just also want ye to be nice. Torsten's special to me. I want ye to like him."

Mason: "I don't take ya for a bad judge of character...not completely." She loved a crossroads demon, so her credibility was lax.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled. "I like to think I'm a verra good judge of character."

Mason: "We shall see, won't we?" Rhetorical, filler before giving her a quick kiss to her cheek.

"How old is that quasi witch?"

Bronwyn: "Yes we will," she said, giving him a kiss in return.

"He's a couple years older than me if ye can believe it. Nearin' forty."

Mason: The demon frowned. "He make a deal with one of mine?"

Bronwyn: "Nope, just agin' extremely well. He's a young soul."

Mason: "How would ya know if he was marked or not?" he smirked.

Bronwyn: "I looked at his license when he applied for the job," she chuckled. "And I asked."

Mason: "He could have made a deal for ten years of perfection. Ya actually asked him?"

Bronwyn: "Aye. When he discovered I was a Druid I asked him if the date o' birth on his license was real and if he'd been extendin' his life by magical means."

Mason: He smiled. "Well, no wonder ya know so much about him. You're as nosy as I am."

Bronwyn: "Hey!" Bronwyn chuckled, giving Mason a poke. "Employer's prerogative. Have to know exactly who's workin' for me, especially if they're goin' to be around my family."

Mason: "What's his mother's name? Is he a religious witch? What are his hobbies?" He's only teasing... possibly.

Bronwyn: "Agatha, he's Jewish but likes to keep it separate from magic, and he plays video games." Teasing or not, it was all said with a triumphant smile.

Mason: "Good girl," he praised, rewarding her investigative skills with a forehead kiss.

"You've done well for yourself. I'm proud of you."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn chuckled softly. "Why thank ye, love." It had been more of a conversation than a deliberate investigation, but effective all the same.

"Hey, now. Ye're goin' to make me tear up in the middle o' my shop."

Mason: "You should already be proud of yourself. My sayin' it shouldn't be greater than that."

Bronwyn: "....I am," she said softly, smile matching her tone. "I'm proud of what I've built. But it still means a lot comin' from someone I love."

Mason: "My opinion isn't gonna matter so much, soon. You'll see. Soon his opinion is gonna mean more."

Bronwyn: "Don't say that. It makes me feel like I'm never goin' to see ye again."

Mason: "Darlin', it won't matter. The way ya go on about him... you'll see."

Bronwyn: "Of course it'll matter. Ye're no' goin' to stop bein' important to me just because he's in my life. Ye're always goin' to be important to me. Ye mean the world to me, and that's no' up for debate. That's established fact."

Mason: He couldn't argue with that. They would just have to see. He didn't want it to be true, but after losing his wife for a second time, his faith in the long-term was fractured.

"Just remember that I love ya."

Bronwyn: "I know ye do." Bronwyn wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. His faith might have been fractured, but hers wasn't. It was stronger than ever.

"I love ye, too, Mason Atlas. More than that demony brain o' yers can possibly imagine."

Mason: "Maybe some of that love," he hated to say this, but, "could help that other me."

Bronwyn: "I hope so." Love for Mason was what had spurred her to save his other half.

Mason: "Guess we should get that part of today over with," he sighed.

Bronwyn: "Aye." She kissed his cheek. "How about I give ye a quick tour of the shop before we collect the baby and head home?"

Mason: "Sounds good." He was ready to be separated from that half of his soul. He could feel Lawrence's maudlin begin to creep into his psyche as though his own.

"Alright. Show me 'round."

Bronwyn: "Right this way then, Mr. Atlas."

The main part of the shop consisted of nearly every magical component a witch could possibly want. Crystals, candles, herbs, lore books. Then there were things only Bronwyn would have. Salt lamps, figurines, magical and non-magical jewelry, and of course, little cards and displays leading patrons into the back of the shop.

Bronwyn's handmade products reigned here. Lovingly crafted soaps, lotions, bath salts, and a whole selection of other products lined the shelves, organized by scent and benefit.

Upstairs were her workroom and office, and out back was a small garden where she grew the herbs she sold and where Ashley and Aedan were currently playing.

She collected her baby boy, gave Ashley his marching orders, and then it was back to the house for them.

Mason/Aedan: Mason walked around by her side, asked ingredients and materials for various items. His attention zeroed in on magical jewelry, a favorite for gift giving as she well knew. He wanted to know what each spell was and how she did it. A few he would know, but the rest he wanted for himself. Greed was, after all, his specialty.

On the way home he asked how successful she'd become, asked her marketing strategy, and attempted to inch closer, testing the waters with her son. Still, little Aedan did not approve, and so he returned an arm's length away.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn was more than happy to share her spells with Mason. They couldn't be anything too powerful or obvious (she was selling to civilians after all) but they could hold their own against any other magical charm. At least where protection, luck, healing, and peace of mind were concerned.

Ashley had been a huge help as far as her marketing was concerned, and she had absolutely no qualms about giving him credit. The social media profiles and website he'd set up had brought in a ton of business.

She only wished Aedan and Mason's relationship could have the same success. Perhaps with more time it would.

"Here we are," she said as they started up her walkway. "Home sweet home."

Mason: The day was successful, with or without Lawrence, and so long as Aedan was without tears that too was a successful budding relationship. Demons were not going to go away; he would have to grow accustomed to his face.

"Alright...so..." How should he do this? He excused himself to the bathroom.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn was about to offer her bedroom to give him some privacy when he excused himself. "Yes, go right ahead."

In the meantime she'd take Aedan up to his bedroom to play and see to the guest room.

Mason/Lawrence: It would be some ten minutes before Mason emerged alone. The bathroom door was shut behind him. Had anyone been in the hallway to see, Lawrence Atlas sat on the edge of the bathtub.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn poked her head out of the guest room when she heard the door closed, expecting to see Lawrence.

"Is he okay?" she asked Mason.

Mason: "He's gonna stay for the weekend, n'then I'll be back for him. S'all we could negotiate."

Bronwyn: She nodded. "Okay. But my offer to let him stay as long as he wants to still stands."

Mason: "Would you rather I stay the night?"

Bronwyn: "I would love it if ye did." Maybe having Mason around tonight would help Lawrence feel more comfortable.

Mason: It would have the opposite effect and he knew that, but Lawrence wasn't his concern, it was Bronwyn's comfort. "Alright. I'll take the couch - bein' in your bed might have me killed," he smirked.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn just smiled and shook her head. It might not get him killed, but it would definitely ruffle a certain revenant's feathers. "Comfortable as it is, ye're no' sleepin' on the couch. Ye can stay in Lucien's old room."

Mason: Absolutely disgusted. "It smells like teenager in there."

Bronwyn: She chuckled. "It does no', I cleaned in there. Want Vincent's room instead? He's been sleepin' in bird form lately."

Mason: "Well, smells like a bird cage in there," he grinned.

Bronwyn: "Like chocolate actually," she said, squinting at him. She's onto you, Mason Atlas. "What does my bedroom smell like?"

Mason: "Mm. Smells like roses and expensive perfume and clean clothes. Just right."

Bronwyn: She chuckled again and shook her head. "Imagine that. Go on, then. I need to stock Lawrence's bathroom."

Mason: "What's that mean, hmm?"

Bronwyn: "That bathroom's empty. He needs towels, soap, shampoo, toothpaste." By the time she was done, the guest bath would rival one in a five star hotel.

And all the products she picked would help Lawrence relax and give him some peace of mind.

Mason: "It's just Lawrence. He's hidin' in there anyway. What I mean is where ya want me to 'go on' to?" his smile returned.

Bronwyn: "It's because it is Lawrence." Bronwyn's smile returned as well. "I meant ye can stay in my room, ye cheeky demon."

Mason: "I can stay on the top cover, or on the floor. Whatever will keep ya honest." Oh that smug smile.

Bronwyn: "Ye will absolutely no' sleep on the floor and well ye know it." She gave his nose an affectionate poke. "I trust ye to be a complete gentleman."

Mason: "Aren't I always?" he snapped at her finger.

Bronwyn: She grinned, pulling it away just in time. "Ye are indeed. And ye look the part, too. Now let me go stock Lawrence's bathroom."

Mason: "What can I do to help, madam?"

Bronwyn: "Grab a set of towels from that closet at the end o' the hall. The sage ones." They were freshly washed and extra soft.

Mason: "Yes, ma'am." And so he would.

Bronwyn: While he did that, Bronwyn was going to gather some carefully selected products. Things smelling of lavender and chamomile and citrus and honey. Relaxing and comforting.

Mason/Lawrence: Lawrence couldn't figure out why he'd agreed to this. A change of pace, he told himself, but really that couldn't do much good. His mind was firmly set in Edenton.

Mason leaned against the hallway wall with his towels and waited for their hostess.

Bronwyn: Their hostess returned with a rather large box a few minutes later.

"Follow me, darlin'," she said to Mason, leading the way into the guest room.

An extra blanket had already been placed at the end of the bed, the curtains drawn to make the room feel cozier, and soon enough the bathroom would be fully stocked with toiletries, towels, and even some candles in case Lawrence wanted to take a bath.

Mason: "Did you design this house?"

Bronwyn: "Aye, with help from an architect."

Mason: "How many bathrooms have ya put in here?" he chuckled.

Bronwyn: "Let's see...mine, Lucien's, this one, and one downstairs. So four."

Mason: "You're a spoiled mistress."

Bronwyn: She chuckled. "What can I say, I grew up in a house with many bathrooms and I refuse to settle."

Mason: "I think my final home - before military - had only a single washroom and two toilets."

Bronwyn: "That last bit is the part that matters, especially in a house with lots of people."

Mason: "Well, keep in mind it was wartime," he muttered. "What shall I do now, Ms. MacAllister?"

Bronwyn: "Help me coax Lawrence out o' the bathroom and I'll make roast and potatoes and Yorkshire puddin' for dinner."

Mason: "How about I begin prep for dinner and you coax him out."

Bronwyn: "Deal. Start seasonin' the roast however ye like."

Mason: "Deal." A quick kiss to her forehead didn't feel like enough, but it had to be, and off to the kitchen he went, leaving her to deal with her new houseguest.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled after him and knocked softly on the bathroom door. "Lawrence?"

Lawrence: Lawrence looked up from the floor, felt mute, but managed, "Yeah?"

Bronwyn: "I've got yer room ready," she said gently. "The bed's comfortable and there's a TV in there."

Lawrence: "I shouldn't be doing this, but my home is his, and...he knows the same people I do."

Bronwyn: "I know, Lawrence. That's why the 'shouldn't' doesn't matter. Ye need a place to rest. I've got a place. Ye can stay as long as ye need to."

Lawrence: "Just for the weekend. I don't want to impose." He still needed to see Gina, too.

Bronwyn: "Ye're no', I promise. If at the end o' the weekend ye decide ye want to stay a wee bit longer or even a lot longer, ye're more than welcome, okay?"

Lawrence: "...Yes, alright. Thank you, Ms. MacAllister. This was...is very generous."

Bronwyn: "Ye're welcome. And please, call me Bronwyn. Or Bron."

Lawrence: "Which does Mason call you?"

Bronwyn: "Bronwyn, but only when I do somethin' he doesn't approve of."

Lawrence: "He calls you Bron?" It felt so informal.

Bronwyn: "No' exactly. When he doesn't call me Bronwyn he calls me darlin'."

Lawrence: "That...sounds like Mason. I can't imagine "Bron" coming from him."

The door slowly creaked open, Lawrence still sat on the edge of the tub.

Bronwyn: "He does have a verra proper way about him," she chuckled.

Bronwyn peeked into the bathroom, smiling. "Hi, there."

Lawrence: That made him feel like a child, forced him to his feet.

"Evening."

Bronwyn: "Want to see yer room? I promise it's nicer than any hotel in the country."

Lawrence: Perhaps not Gina Lawson's. He should be with her, shouldn't he? How could he face her after what he'd been through?

"Sure. Thank you."

Bronwyn: "It's right this way."

Bronwyn led him down the hall and through the last door on the left. The room was spacious, decorated in soft colors, and smelled faintly of lavender.

"Yer bathroom's through that door there. There are extra blankets in that closet. Oh, and there's a DVD player hooked up to the TV."

Lawrence: The room reminded him of comfort, which reminded him of Gina. Bronwyn seemed to be just waltzing into that category.

"Are you only being this kind to me...because I am...Mason?"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn shook her head gently. "No. I'm bein' kind to ye because ye're Lawrence and ye deserve kindness."

Lawrence: "But what do you know about me?"

Bronwyn: "I know ye're tired and that ye feel things intensely, includin' and especially love. I know ye have someone ye care for deeply, and that she cares for ye. And aye, I know ye and Mason share a soul, and although that makes ye precious to me in a way, I also know that ye're yer own person."

Lawrence: "Do you know why I'm here? What I did that's put me in this empty feeling?"

Bronwyn: "Mason gave me an idea but he didn't go into detail. Ye don't have to, either."

Lawrence: "You wanna help me but you don't know? I don't understand how you can be so kind." You're like Gina, but...

"I allowed a man to tie me down and strike me...and it went too far."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn gave Lawrence a sad smile. "I know enough, and I've been through enough to want to help. Trauma festers if it's no' given a chance to heal gently."

Her heart hurt for him, and it showed. It wasn't pity though, and nothing about her demeanor expressed it. Only sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Lawrence," she said softly.

Lawrence: This made no sense to him why she - but she knew Mason. Of course. A demon. He was once a demon so why would now be different. Yes.

He ducked his head. "I...I'll be gone by Monday. Thank you. I think I'd like to sleep now."

Bronwyn: "Ye're welcome, but my offer still stands. Please consider it. I can't promise ye a whole lot of excitement here beyond verra silly conversations with a toddler but it's quiet."

Bronwyn nodded. "All right, I'll get out o' yer way." She started toward the door, only taking a few steps before stopping.

"And Lawrence? Ye're no' alone. I know how ye feel better than ye might think."

Mason/Lawrence: He looked to her curiously, but could do no more than nod. For now he would keep his questions to himself. He wanted to know how she could understand, but sleep just seemed most important. It was safe to sleep.

"Thank you," he said again.

Mason waited downstairs, wiping his hands with paper towel.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled and nodded, leaving him to rest. When he was rested and ready he could ask her anything he wanted, and she would answer.

"He's goin' to sleep," she said as she entered the kitchen.

Mason: "So, he's hidin'." Nothing more to say on the matter. He offered his hand. "Your heart is too big for your tiny body."

Bronwyn: She took it and squeezed. "Restin', and ye love my big, bleedin' Scottish heart."

Mason: "Of course I love ya. Now...I put together this spice mix. I want ya t'try it."

Bronwyn: "Oh yeah? What'd ye put in it?"

Mason: "Almost all of your coffee," he grinned.

Bronwyn: "Ye better mean my cookin' coffee and no' my nice coffee."

Mason: "Whatever was in the red canister is gone."

Bronwyn: "That's fine then. That's the cookin' coffee. What else did ye put in?"

Mason: "We have brown sugar, chili flakes, some salt, some paprika and garlic...S'gonna be good."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn hummed in approval as Mason listed off ingredients. "It definitely is. It just needs pepper."

Mason: "Well, darlin', pepper away." The mixing bowl of spices was placed in front of her, pepper offered. He leaned against the counter to watch as though fascinated. He was, in fact, content.

Bronwyn: She planned to take Mason at his word and add all of the pepper that she could without overpowering any of the other spices.

It was all given a good mix and given another nod of approval. "Now it's perfect."

Mason: "I can't taste the difference in black pepper and chili flakes. What does it bring to the mix?"

Bronwyn: "I can't really describe it. Other than the heat it gives this really pleasant balance to things. A sort of...earthiness."

Mason: "So chili flakes and paprika and black pepper won't overwhelm the meat for ya?"

Bronwyn: "No' at all. I love some heat. Goes really nicely with potatoes."

Mason: "What's your opinion on spicy chocolate?"

Bronwyn: "I love it with all of my soul."

Mason: "What about on top of a ribeye?"

Bronwyn: She perked. "I'm intrigued. Tell me more."

Mason: "Just an idea is all. Maybe we can try that, too, sometime."

Bronwyn: "Absolutely. Maybe with that asparagus ye like."

Mason: "Ya do this with what's-his-name?"

Bronwyn: "Cook with Torsten? Sometimes. Mostly one of us watches the other."

Mason: "Like I'm doin' right now?"

Bronwyn: "He plays sous chef."

Mason: "Mm, Ms. Executive Chef. Like orderin' him about?"

Bronwyn: "I never order," she said with a grin. "I sweetly ask."

Mason: "No, no. I wanna hear you're this Gordon Ramsay bloke," he grinned.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. "I don't have a single Gordon Ramsay-esque bone in my body."

Mason: "What if he overcooks the roast?"

Bronwyn: "Oh, he's punished most severely."

Mason: "That sounds like sex."

Bronwyn: "It's no'," she chuckled. "I give him a witherin' stare. It's verra powerful."

Mason: "Oh, right. I think I've seen it." But it might have been directed at Carl.

"Who is the um...The godfather to...Aedan?"

Bronwyn: "He doesn't have a proper one. Just lots and lots of unofficial uncles."

Bronwyn turned to look at him, something that looked mysteriously like hope dancing in her eyes. "Why do ye ask?"

Mason: "Curious is all. If this man you're with is the one, if he is a part of Aedan's life, how many fathers will that make, three? He has many options should anyone die."

Bronwyn: "Aye, three," she said with a nod. "My wee laddie's goin' to have more family than he knows what to do with."

Mason: "So you've said," he smiled. "Am I an unofficial uncle?"

Bronwyn: "Of course ye are! Ye have been since he was still in my belly."

Mason: "The child knows better."

Bronwyn: "He hasn't gotten to know ye yet. He's still on the fence about Torsten too."

Mason: "Is he really? That's not a demon." A vampire wasn't much better, even a vampiric hybrid.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Aye, he is. I think it's only partly to do with ye bein' a demon and Torsten bein' a revenant." She smiled. "Aedan's no' used to sharin' his mama."

Mason: "He apprehensive with everyone in some way?"

Bronwyn: "At first. When he warms up to them he doesn't mind them bein' near me. Ashley won him over with the sheer power of his hair."

Mason: "I dunno what to say to that," he chuckled.

Bronwyn: "A thought I've often had around Ashley." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Aedan will warm up to ye. Just give it some time."

Mason: "I have his entire life." He had no intention of going anywhere. "You're not havin' any trouble with the biological father and your new suitor?"

Bronwyn: "Well, like father, like son," she chuckled. "He's no' used to sharin' me either."

Mason: "None of us are. We tolerate each other."

Bronwyn: "So I'm gatherin'. My men are all spoiled to me."

Mason: All this talk of men had him thinking of the women in her life. So, he asked, "Does your sister know about me?"

Bronwyn: "Does she know I have a friend named Mason? Aye. Does she know my friend Mason is a demon? No. Grandmama Sorcha has forbidden me from tellin' her."

Mason: "Sorcha, really?" he smiled fondly. A special bird she was, her calm, her maturity. MacAllister women were to be treasured.

Bronwyn: "Aye. She's got a mighty big soft spot for ye."

Mason: "She just loves my wings."

Bronwyn: "And the fact that ye saved her grandchild." Bronwyn smiled. "Yer wings remind her of her angel."

Mason: "I'm no angel. She knows better."

Bronwyn: "She does, aye. Ye just make her think o' one. That's verra high praise from Sorcha MacGillivray."

Mason: "D'ya MacGillivrays and MacAllisters never see fault in anyone unless they slap your face?"

Bronwyn: "Deirdre can see fault in someone by somethin' as small as how they take their tea."

Mason: "N'yet bein' a demon?"

Bronwyn: "That's the reason my grandmama told me no' to tell her."

Mason: "Oh good. So that's two women to avoid."

Bronwyn: "Is my grandmama the other?" she chuckled.

Mason: "Your sister."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn frowned. "My sister and who else?"

Mason: "My wife."

Bronwyn: "Yer wife isn't exactly a woman anymore."

Mason: "It was a joke. Poorly executed."

Bronwyn: "Probably still a good idea to avoid them both though. Especially Deirdre. I really don't want her to try to spear ye with a javelin."

Mason: "Been some time since I've been hunted. Wouldn't mind the sport of it."

Bronwyn: "Absolutely no'. Ye and Deirdre aren't allowed to be in the same room. I'm no' even sure I want her and Torsten in the same room, she'll scare him away and I'll die an old maid with a dozen horses."

Mason: "Oh. I'll help her with Torsten," he grinned.

Bronwyn: His ribs were poked. "Don't ye even think about it."

Mason: "I've been thinkin' about it."

Bronwyn: "Give him a chance."

Mason: "Can't hide all the men ya love from your sister."

Bronwyn: "They'll meet someday. I just don't want her to hurt ye."

Mason: "She can't take on her mother, grandmamma, n'ya at the same time." Despite appearances he did appreciate his fan club.

Bronwyn: "If anyone could, it would be Deirdre. My baby sister might look like an angel in a renaissance paintin' but she is a force to be reckoned with."

Mason: "Does she know about Callum and the vampire?"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn shook her head. "No, and neither do my mama or grandmama. Only me and Callum's da know."

Mason: "My - Callum's father knows about me, too?"

Bronwyn: "I don't know, darlin'. Callum can play things verra close to the vest."

Mason: "And then say his piece like he's wearing mithril." Callum, or Dahlia?

Bronwyn: "Like he's wearin' what?"

Mason: "Armor."

Bronwyn: "Ah. Well...I can't say that's never no' happened." Callum did have his moments.

Mason: The demon simply sighed. The subject had such an effect on him.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn squeezed his hand. Enough talk about Callum.

"What are we doin' with the potatoes? Rosemary? Garlic?"

Mason: "Oh, um..." He'd forgotten what they were doing. His mind had drifted away to his children. "...yes to both."

Bronwyn: "Then rosemary and garlic potatoes we shall have. With lots of butter."

Mason: "Paprika, maybe?" He had to claw his way back to the present.

Bronwyn: "Ooh, that would be good. Should we add another herb in there? Sage maybe?"

Mason: "Alright, yes." He kissed her hand. Shamelessly, she was used to steer himself from his own mind. He really had forgotten what they were doing in such a brief span of time.

"Life is easier without romance."

Bronwyn: "Then sage we shall have," she said, kissing his cheek before grabbing the herbs from the fridge.

"I don't know if it's easier, but it can be simpler."

Mason: "I've loved too many." The sage was taken and sniffed. "If you have twins...Sage and Rosemary."

Bronwyn: She smiled. "Those would be lovely names. Verra Druid-y. And fragrant."

Since she was only going to roast the potatoes, prepping them would be easy. Just wash and cut.

"Which sounds better? Sage Maison or Rosemary Maison?"

Mason: "Rosemary. Sage...Francis? It's...mature. Regal." He had a feeling his wife hadn't liked it.

Bronwyn: "Verra regal. There have been a couple of kings named Francis. It's a verra Old World name, I like it."

Mason: "I just seem to circle back on subjects, don't I?"

Bronwyn: "That's how conversations happen sometimes. Ye and I have had many twisty ones in our day."

Mason: "Somehow we both inch our way back to the subject of men. Is it men, or love? In my case, it's a woman turned man." To that, he scoffed.

Bronwyn: "I'd say it's love, but men are inevitably part o' the conversation."

She gave his hand another squeeze. "We don't just talk about him. We talk about Charles, too."

Mason: "Charles puts up with more than he should have to."

Bronwyn: "He loves ye. And he's a verra patient man."

Mason: "I think at one point he told me to fuck a cactus."

Bronwyn: "...Well then. Our professor apparently doesn't pull his punches."

Mason: "Well, I had tried t'leave him."

Bronwyn: "Ye tried to leave Charles?"

Mason: "When y'all first got me out of the marble."

Bronwyn: "Ah, I see. That absolutely sounds like a response he would have."

Mason: "He...has a soulmate out there somewhere."

Bronwyn: "Aye, he verra well might. But he's in love with ye."

Mason: "That shouldn't be an excuse."

Bronwyn: "It isn't one. It's simply the truth."

Mason: "And if your revenant is your soulmate, you'll have nothing to argue."

Bronwyn: "If he is my soulmate, then we might have somethin' to argue. I have more or less a human lifespan. He doesn't."

Mason: "As I have with Callum, as Charles has with me, as he might with his soulmate."

Bronwyn: "It comes with the territory but it's still an argument. Or at least an obstacle. Whether a person is with their soulmate or no', all relationships have their issues."

Mason: "Years ago, I don't believe I would have cared whether or not Charles had someone of better potential. I would have enjoyed him for however long we had and waved goodbye."

Bronwyn: "But then ye found out about Callum," she said softly.

Mason: "Mm." The potatoes were spread evenly over her baking dish, hands washed, back to the druid.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn chopped up the herbs and measured out the spices, sprinkling them over the potatoes after tossing them in love oil.

"Time for the oven? Anythin' else we want to add to these or the meat?"

Mason: "I can't think of anything else, love."

Bronwyn: "Into the oven we go then," she said, sliding both trays onto their respective racks. "Goin' to wait a wee on the batter for the Yorkshire puddin's since I need the drippin' from the meat. Want a bunch of wee ones or one big one?"

Mason: "Many. Feel like there's more pastry that way."

Bronwyn: If Mason wanted many puddings, then many puddings he was going to have. Bronwyn wanted to spoil him today and the best way she knew how to do that was with food.

The batter was mixed and set aside to wait for the meat. "What do ye want for dessert?" Because no meal in this house was ever had without dessert. Besides, they had plenty of time.

Mason: The demon crossed his arms and leaned into the counter. "What does the chef recommend?"

Bronwyn: "The possibilities are endless in this kitchen. Ye want trifle? I've got cake to make one. Tiramisu? I've got lady fingers. The world is yer oyster, darlin'."

Mason: "Somethin' light the wee one can eat, too."

Bronwyn: "He never says no to trifle. Just like his mama."

Mason: "Well, there we go." Dessert and dinner, a day out with his favorite druid, and Lawrence shrugged from his shoulders. All that was missing was a certain mutant of the telepathic variety.

Bronwyn: "Excellent," she said brightly, already gathering ingredients for custard. "What flavors tickle yer fancy today? Ye're bein' thoroughly spoiled."

Mason: "What tickles me is sweet and spicy, but today, I wouldn't mind citrus. Something sour to punish my tongue."

Bronwyn: "How does....lemon custard sound?"

Mason: "In a parfait with graham cracker for the little one?"

Bronwyn: "Oh, that sounds good. Cake, custard, whipped cream, and some graham cracker crumbled on top. No better dessert than that."

Mason: "Then we have it." He kissed her cheek.

Bronwyn: "Excellent," she said, beaming at the kiss.

She had Mason cut the cake into cubes while she made the custard and periodically checked on the roast and the potatoes and Aedan and (mentally) Vincent. She loved days like this. The domesticity of them. She was at her happiest when she could just spend time with someone she loved and feed them and talk.

Once the trifle was put together, she got some dripping from the roast pan and made the Yorkshire puddings. In no time at all, the kitchen was full of delicious smells and the table was positively laden with food.

#Day in the Life thread #masonatlas #aedanvivaldilynott #lawrenceatlas

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