First Date

Western Weyr - The Perfect Alibi
Though the outside of the building is made of stone, the inside has been covered in wood paneling to give it the feel of an old hunting lodge. The lodge itself is a long rectangular shape, with the door on the far left side of one of the longer edges. Across from the door against the opposite wall the bar extends until about halfway down the building, with the entrance to the latrine at the end of it. The bar itself looks much like the tables that spot the room, made of long slabs of polished stone with wooden legs. Behind it sit the shelves for liquor and the door leading into the kitchens. Two large kegs sit in the corner, one on top of the other. The tables are longer than usual, designed to sit six or eight. Only a handful can fit, leaving patrons to share the space. Booths with high backs adorn the free wall space for customers that needed slightly more privacy. The far right wall houses a large fireplace, and there's a fur rug laid out in front of it. Around the fireplace sit a semi-circle of throne-like chairs with high backs and lots of padding, also covered in fur. There are small tables around to hold drinks.
A dartboard hangs to the left of the fireplace on the wall, out of the way for patrons that would like to play. Decks of dragonpoker cards sit around as well as pairs of dice.


Zi'on has sent Rhysa a little package delivered by gold firelizard express. No, it's not his ear or anything like that. It's the dress he promised her out of the fabric she picked out. And a little note to meet him at The Perfect Alibi this evening. Wearing the dress was up to her, of course. The bronzer doesn't have to rent out The Alibi for a private function, since he owns the place. He just shuts it down for the night, mostly. Inside, most everything has been moved out of the way, leaving just a small dining table for two. There's a fire roaring and glow baskets placed about. There's not much by way of staff around. Just one waitress, the bartender, and a couple of harpers. Zi'on is dressed up in a nice button up maroon tunic (yes he's done that one purpose and black pants. He chats with the harpers while he waits for Rhysa to arrive.

It's probably for the best that Zi'on wasn't present to hear Rhysa's girlishly excited squealing on receipt of that package: she'll probably feel guilty for what could easily have been perceived as showing off, later. For now, however, pleasure outweighs other, lesser feelings (and perhaps some other, less positive ones). Wearing the dress, with her hair loose and carefully arranged, she arrives at the appointed time having (largely) controlled the squealing urge, though having taken one step in she stops, eyes wide with awe. "You… don't do things by halves, do you?" she says, voice lifted to carry, and sounding both pleased and a little overwhelmed.

Usually it's not a bad thing to sweeten the deal. By now Rhysa has talked to at least Naris or Naeda, so Zi'on is hedging his bets a little by offering her a gift in addition to asking her out. Zi'on turns toward Rhysa as she steps into the Alibi, and then he chuckles a bit. "This is our first real date. I wanted it to be special. And since you've got such a nice dress on…" The bronzer moves to the table to pull a chair out for her. The harpers start to play some nice quiet background music, and the waitress brings over a bottle of wine. "So how's life as a candidate been so far?"

"It's definitely special," says Rhysanna, one hand dropping so that she can run her fingers over the fabric of her cocktail-length dress— she's pleased with that, too, oh yes. "And the dress is beautiful. Thank you." She sits, smiling up at Zi'on, as her hands drop towards the edge of the table. "It's… not terribly different to life before, except that there are more rules," she answers. "And I suppose we're all worrying about the future more than we usually would." The wine gets a glance. "Am I allowed to drink that, oh fancypants Weyrleader?"

Zi'on scoots her chair in a bit once she's sat down. Then he moves around to take his own seat. He smile to her. "You're welcome." He nods about her experience at a candidate. "I know I was always nervous. It got worse as I got left on the sands, too. Is this your first time standing?" He chuckles a bit, and pours each of them a glass of wine. "One glass with dinner won't hurt. Or two. We just can't go overboard. I won't tell if you won't." He winks to her. The waitress bring out their first course, spiderclaw bisque and bread. Mmm.

Rhysanna, playing up the childishness of it, makes the age-old gesture of buttoning her lips, though her gaze quickly drops towards her newly arrived plate. "I didn't know that you were left on the sands," she says. "I suppose there's a lot I don't know about you. No, I've never stood before. I don't really know what I want the outcome to be. Given it isn't really in my hands, perhaps that's not really a problem, too." She picks up her glass, carefully, lifting it in a silent toast.

Zi'on grins to her. He'd likely be in more trouble than she was, for giving a candidate alcohol. He nods. "Mmhm. Twice. Once here and once at Ista. Then I impressed here on my third try. It was all in the span of about a turn. For some reason a lot of people seem surprised when I tell them. But you're right, there's not much you can do about it. Than stay out of trouble and enjoy the experience." He picks up his glass as well, raising it with hers, then takes a sip. Then he starts in on his soup. "How'd your mom react?"

Mention of 'trouble' has Rhysanna giving her wine another glance, and smiling, though it's obvious she doesn't see this as having the potential for real trouble. Picking up her spoon, she gives her soup a stir, then tries some, and only then answers the question. "She's delighted. Everything, she tells me, is going exactly according to plan. Her plan. Was Impression always your end goal?"

As much as Zi'on would love to break some of the candidacy rules with Rhysanna, he wouldn't do that to her. It was far too important. More important even than him, though his ego might get in the way of admitting it. He chuckles. "Her plan, eh? Her plan was to find you a candidacy knot? She could have just asked." He sips at his soup a bit. "Not exactly. When I was about twelve I moved from Telgar to here to be close to my father. My mother told me that she thought I might make a good harper. They run in her family. But when I told my father, he handed me a candidate's knot and told me to stand." He laughs. "The second time I got searched I just happened to be out in the bowl when some visiting Istans found me. And well… the last time I was searched I had just turned thirteen. Or around then. I was working as Enka's errand boy and I had a huuuge crush on her. And after I tried to kiss her… well she gave me a candidate's knot to get rid of me." He laughs. "Otherwise I would have ended up in the techcraft, maybe."

"Her plan is rather more complicated than that, I'm afraid," says Rhysanna, dryly, without elaborating. Clearly, she's much more interested in eating her soup, drinking her wine, and listening to Zi'on's story. She very nearly chokes at that last part of it, and has to lift one hand to cover her mouth as she recomposes herself. "You tried to kiss her," she repeats, sounding both delighted and heartily amused. "At thirteen. She would already have been Weyrwoman by then, wouldn't she? And she's turns older than you. No wonder she tried to fob you off like that. Still, at least it worked. Why techcraft?"

Zi'on raises a brow at Rhysanna. "That makes me a little nervous." What else was involved in her mother's schemes? Zi'on wonders is his own mother had somehow planned out all of this for him. Though Sris never seemed that manipulative. He chuckles. "Well, I didn't run up to her and stick her tongue down my throat. But I propositioned her over and over." He grins. "She was only twenty at the time." He laughs. "She became weyrwoman young. But I had some stones as a kid." That was one way of putting it! "I knew a techcrafter when I was younger, so I learned a bit from her. She impressed in the first clutch I stood in. I've picked up more since then, but I don't have the time for a craft anymore." He pokes at his soup. "No craft for you, eh?"

On that subject, all Rhysa will say is, "Mother expects great things from me." That she's faintly uncomfortable with it is manifest in the way she studies her food for a few moments, before managing to say anything else. "You certainly did, from the sounds of it! I can't imagine many twenty-turn-olds being patient with that. I wouldn't be. Still." This time, she actually takes another mouthful of soup, eating gracefully. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have time. Being Weyrleader must take most of what you have. There was never a craft I felt especially drawn to. Honestly, accepting that candidate knot is about the most decision-making I've ever managed, career-wise, and even then… I don't think I could have said no."

Zi'on smiles. "There's nothing wrong with wanting great things from your kids. Heck, if Ezio is even half as successful as Enka or I, I'll be happy." He laughs. "Enka handled it well. Or she must have, since I still had a crush on her turns later when we actually started dating. She let me down easy." Zi'on is sort of a picky eater. He's ate maybe half his soup, and by the way he's poking at it, is done with it. "I still have some time, but getting involved in a craft is too time consuming. If I did that, I wouldn't be able to do this." He motions between the two of them. "I'd lead a lonely life, working all the time." He nods to her about not finding a craft to settle into." He grins. "You could have said no. If you didn't want it. But it seems like you want it. Right?"

"I didn't know you dated Enka— the Weyrwoman." Rhysanna's tone is even, except for a faint note of curiosity. "I assume that ended relatively cleanly, if you can still manage to work together." She has clearly been raised to finish the food put in front of her, and has been managing regular bites: hers is just about finished. "I'd rather you be able to do this. It sounds much less lonely. I'm more interesting than technology." Her smile, at least, is laughing. "I… could have said no. I don't know. I wasn't sure if I wanted it; maybe I'm still not. Perhaps you'd just swept me off my feet to the point where I couldn't think of any other answer, but— no, maybe I do want it. I hope so."

Zi'on blinks. "Mmhm. We were weyrmated for a while. We have two kids together. Though Erianna was a flight baby that happened way after." He nods. "I was pretty young at the time, so I don't think Enka went in expecting it to last forever. We're still friends and all. Obviously, well, you know the flights and all." He chuckles. Zi'on lets the waitress take his bowl when she takes Rhysa's. They get a bit of breathing time between courses, to partake in the wine. "Me too. You are more interesting than technology." He smiles to her. "Well, either way, you're in it to win it now, right? Even if you don't impress, you get close with the group, you have some fun doing some different things and you get to get up close to some dragon eggs. I think you'd make a good rider, though. So I hope you want it." He smiles. "I swept you off your feet?"

Rhysanna wraps her fingers around her wine glass again, and laughs. "You'll have to remember that I'm quite a bit younger than you are," she points out. "There are things in your past that happened when I was just a child and didn't pay attention to gossip. I'm glad you're friends, though. It must make things easier." Her glass gets lifted to her mouth for a sip, though her mouth is already curving into a smile, making that more difficult. "What makes a good rider, I wonder? Perhaps it's not important. As I recall, you literally swept me off my feet, and I'm not sure how much clear thinking I was doing after the kiss." She's flushing, and she's clearly not had enough wine for it to be because of that.

Zi'on smiles. "Yeah, yeah. I know I'm old. And you're younger. And when I was dating Enka you were like… eight turns old." He chuckles. "But don't worry. I'm a very immature twenty-seven turn old. It does make things easier. Especially if you have kids together. Riders aren't expected to keep weyrmates forever, really." Zi'on twirls the wine in his glass. "I dunno. A positive outlook and a good work ethic? Loving the weyr? I'm sure there's something that the dragons look for." He grins to her. "I guess I did. We can repeat that kiss a little later, maybe." For now, out comes the main course. Herdbeast steak, roasted tubers and vegetables and a pasta salad.

"As I recall," says Rhysanna, with a giggling little laugh, "I thought boys were gross, when I was eight." She's silent for a few seconds after that, perhaps in a thoughtful way, and then hastily adds, "Probably something completely unquantifiable. Otherwise, someone would have done some kind of… I don't know, study? And worked out the odds." If her blush has deepened at the possibility of repeating that kiss, well, it's done so while she's smiling— and in either case, the main course is a distraction.

Zi'on laughs. "I'm sure I thought girls were gross when I was eight. If it's any consolation. And I'm CERTAIN -I- was gross when I was eight. So… yeah." He grins and shrugs a bit. "It probably is. I mean… They're baby dragons. They're like… complete spazzes when they first hatch. How would they know who to pick?" Silly dragons! Zi'on tries not to look too pleased at the blushing. If she's blushing she must be thinking about the kiss. And how nice it was. "So what's your favorite kind of food, Rhysa?" He cuts into his steak. Nice and think and juicy.

That makes Rhysa laugh, too. "I'm pretty sure eight turn olds are just generally gross," she decides, as she begins cutting up her own food. "I wonder how they do know how to pick. And if they ever make mistakes… I mean, they can't, right? Because that's too awful to contemplate. But. I guess it's just unknowable." It makes her brow furrow, but honestly, it's too philosophically deep, and she abandons the subject in lieu of eating, and adding, "Oh, I eat most things. I like seafood. Fancy salads. Fresh fruit. But this," she indicates her plate with her fork. "is excellent."

Zi'on laughs. "They are. I've caught Ezio picking his nose and eating it. Er, sorry. I know we're trying to eat. But still. Gross." He laughs. "I've never heard a dragon mispicking a rider. So I don't think it can happen?" He also furrows in a brow in thought. Which is broken up by him trying to memorize Rhysa's favorite foods. "Sea food, fancy salads, fresh fruit. I think maybe we ought to go on a picnic someplace. What do you think? You can pick the place if you'd like." The bronzer nods about the food, though he's already looking picky and he's only gotten through the meat portion. "I'm a sweets guy. I'd eat only pastry if I wouldn't be huge and die from it."

"Ew," says Rhysa, wrinkling her nose in what certainly looks like genuine disgust. She recovers quickly, though, nodding in response to Zi'on's thoughts on Impression, and finally smiling more brightly at his suggestion. "I'd like that," she says. "I know of a few good spots. I—" and then she stops, and has to laugh. "Are vegetables the enemy? Real food something to be endured?" Her tone is teasing, far more amused than perhaps it has any right to be. "I hope you try and model better behavior for your children."

Zi'on chuckles. Boys would be boys after all. The bronzer has enough to worry about without worrying about dragons picking the wrong riders. He's got enough worrying about his son picking his nose. He smiles and nods about the picnic. "We can even head outside the weyr, if you want. As long as I'm with you, we'll have a quick ride back should the eggs do any unforseen hatching." He blinks at her then and looks down at his plate. "What? I'm eating them!" He shoves some into his mouth, making a face as he chews. "Yumm." He says, facetiously. "My kids rarely watch me eat. They're all fostered off." Which is probably a good thing. "I'm saving room for dessert."

Rhysanna scoops up some of her pasta salad, chewing on it as Zi'on talks. Her laugh requires her to cover her mouth with one hand, looking momentarily awkward until, swallowing, she can say, "I won't tell, if you eat double dessert instead. I wouldn't mind, going outside the Weyr, though I know fewer places— I haven't done a great deal of travel, though I'd like to. How often do you get to spend time with your kids?"

Zi'on grins to Rhysanna. "Great! I promise I won't eat your dessert though. Though you're sweet enough to not need dessert." He at least makes an attempt on the rest of his food. Now that he's been teased so much about it. "I know a few good places, don't worry. Is there any weyr you'd really like to see? Maybe that'll make it easy to narrow down a spot." Zi'on ponders a bit. "For the ones that live here, once or twice a week generally. The ones outside the weyr it's usually every few sevendays. Depends on their mother, though. And how mad she is at me that month."

The compliment makes Rhysa blush all over again, clearly pleased. She sets down her fork a few moments later: she's eaten almost everything on her plate, but it's clearly enough. Reclaiming her wine glass, she says, "Nowhere cold, that's for certain. But somewhere… different from Western, even so. I don't know. Are women often mad at you? From what I understand…" she pauses, uncertainly eyeing her wine rather than look at Zi'on directly. "You seem to have complicated relationships with women."

And Zi'on looks pleased at Rhysa's blushing. The waitress wanders over to clear plates, even if half of Zi'on's food is left. What a waster. "Hm. Maybe Ista then. A picnic on the black sands." Zi'on looks surprised when Rhysa asks him that question. He should have figured eventually she'd want to know the details of what happened between him and the other girls around. "Well, not normally, no. I wasn't planning on getting involved with anyone seriously for a while, honestly. But the few times we had some interaction… I just felt a spark, I guess." He sighs and finishes off his wine. "Kiena, my ex, and I had a really wild sort of relationship. We were either fighting or making up all the time, it seems. Kiena is a fairly angry person, and I tend to push her buttons. So we fight a fair bit. It's getting better, but I try to avoid her mostly, now."

Rhysanna gives a little nod that seems to confirm Ista as a good choice, though it's obvious most of her attention is upon the answer to her question; certainly, she exhales, after it. "Oh," she says, finally. And, "I'm sorry. That must be… difficult." And then, quickly: "I'm not trying to pry, or anything. It's been a difficult few days." She's managed to lift her gaze, now, to look at him once again. "Naris thinks you lied to her. I don't even like her, and it was incredibly… I felt really guilty. Naeda… well, no, that was easy. Another girl, a candidate whose name I don't know, mocked me for believing that you really wanted anything serious with me. And I get it. You have a certain reputation."

Zi'on frowns a bit, as the conversation has turned into less pleasant topics. "Ah… It's not so bad. A lot of it is my fault really." He shakes his head. "You're not prying. Don't worry about that. You have a right to know." He looks back at her. "I guess I sort of lied to Naris. I tried to spare her feelings. But what she wanted I couldn't give her. I just don't feel that way about her. I would have used her and she would have gotten more hurt later on. Naeda and I had an arrangement from the get-go. Which I broke off with her, obviously." He frowns. "I've been weyrmated twice. If I say I'm going to be serious, I'm going to be serious. I'm sorry you had to hear any of that. A lot of my relationships have been secret at the start for a while. Being with me isn't an easy thing, since I'm so visible in the weyr. It adds a lot of extra pressure, and I should have warned you." The frown sinks into a pout, and his shoulders slump. "If you've changed your mind about this, I'll understand…"

Rhysanna's expression is difficult to read as she listens, unwaveringly hovering on the edge of solemn, without actually becoming wholly serious. Still, it's obviously that she's listening intently— and finally, at the end, her cheeks have gone pink and she's shaking her head. Abruptly, she rises from her seat, stepping around the table so that she can put both arms around him as she promises, "I'm not changing my mind. I'm just… communicating."

Zi'on just looks sullen, until Rhysanna comes over to hug him. He smiles up at her, returning the hug. "Thanks, Rhysa. If I can make it easier on you, please tell me. I will yell at Naris or whoever I have to if it'll make you feel more at ease." He pulls her down into his lap then, or at least attempts to. "I'm sorry I've got all this baggage. I'll try to make it worth your while. Even if I can't get you inbetween the sheets." He winks to her. At least it should keep things interesting?

Rhysanna is easily pulled, and winds her arms around Zi'on's neck loosely, once she's there. His wink makes her blush, but only lightly; she's smiling, and also sighing. "One day," she says. "One day. You should probably just apologize to Naris, so that I can go back to not liking her, and not feeling guilty. And the rest… it'll be fine." She's sounding more sure, now, and perhaps a little more relaxed. "I just need to get used to it. And I will."

Zi'on smiles at Rhysa once she's settled into his lap. He sighs. "Alright alright. I will. I probably owe it to her anyways. That got… messy. There were feelings there and feelings make it messy." There were feelings with Nae, too, but Nae at least as some experience dealing with them. Naris… not so much. He nods to her. "In the meantime… let me spoil you a little. If there's something you want, or some place you want to go… just let me know." He pokes at her nose playfully. "How about dessert? Before we get to… something a little more fun?" At some point the waitress has brought out what appears to be a layered parfait looking dessert for each of them.

"Good," says Rhysa, apparently satisfied with all of this as a conclusion to that particular thread of the conversation. "You seem to do an excellent job of spoiling me even without my particular input," she adds, smiling, "but I'll keep that in mind. I suppose I'd better move back to my own chair so as not to distract you too much from your dessert. I'd hate to get between you and your," she turns her upper body, glancing back at the table to identify the dessert in question, "delicious-looking parfait."

Zi'on is feeling a bit better about things. Now that all that talk is over and Rhysa seems satisfied and isn't running away from him. He grins at her. "Good! You deserve it." He pouts then at the notion of her moving back to her chair. "Or you could stay here. And we could enjoy our desserts together." Zi'on reaches around Rhysa to pick up his dessert and a spoon. He scoops some out and 'flies' the spoon toward her mouth. "Make room for the parfait dragon!" Except then he "slips" getting parfait all over Rhysa's face. "Oops! Now someone's gonna have to clean you off…" He chuckles a bit.

Rhysanna is clearly not adverse to staying right where she is, and though her eyebrows raise and she holds back a giggle at his 'dragon', it's fair to say that the look on her face when the parfait lands on instead of in her mouth is utterly priceless. "Oops! I wonder if I can find someone willing to do that for me…" she says, eyebrows waggling. "Really, you should be more careful."

Zi'on will just have to keep his hands to himself. Despite what he might want to do with Rhysa, it is not allowed! "Well, I dunno… we'll have to find someone around here…" Zi'on's voice lowers then, and his eyes get lidded. "I really should be more careful…" He hands her the dessert, then gently cups her head, so he can slowly lick the dessert off her face. His beard is tickly! Especially when he's doing something as strange as licking her face. "Mmm… " He follows it up with a parfait-tasting kiss on the lips.

Rhysanna lets out a soft, breathy little sound as Zi'on starts licking away the parfait, her eyelids fluttering closed. She had started to scoop out another spoonful of the dessert, but that gets largely forgotten (but not, at least, dropped) as, instead, she simply enjoys the sensation… and then the kiss that follows, in which she is an enthusiastic participant. "Tasty," she decides, afterwards, pink-cheeked and pleased. "Your turn." She gets some of it on his nose, but at least most of it is aimed correctly for his mouth. And the nose? Well, that's easily cleaned.

Yeah. This might be hard candidacy for Zi'on. Zi'on might not want to eat a dessert normally after this, either. He'll start using Rhysa as a dessert tray. The bronzer lets the kiss linger on a while. "Mmm. You have no idea." Zi'on isn't sure if he's supposed to open his mouth or not. He does. Hopefully some of it gets in? The bronzer's got a larger than average nose, so it's hard to miss that. Though it's not as sexy up there, Rhysa probably doesn't want to be licking parfait off his stubble. He chuckles. "You're worse than me. That was almost in my hair!" Okay, he's exaggerating.

He's exaggerating, but it makes Rhysa giggle all the same. "Are you regretting offering me that knot, now?" she wonders, clearly teasing. "Or maybe just not encouraging me to go back to my own chair." She's pretty good at this parfait-cleaning thing. And, okay, the kisses that intersperse it. "But if I'm so terrible, perhaps you'd better take over…" She doesn't (thankfully) have facial stubble to get in the way!

Zi'on laughs. "No. Well… in some way, yes. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to have you right here on the table, right now. But no. I will be a gentleman. But I also don't want you to leave. I like having you close to me." The bronzer shuts his eyes as she clean him up, returning the kisses when they come. He then scoops up a bit of the parfait and flies it toward her mouth. "Here it comes… oop, detour!" And into his own mouth it goes, with him chuckling evilly. "Alright alright. Here we go." The next bit actually makes it into Rhysa's mouth. If Rhysa weren't a candidate… there would be parfait probably down her cleavage. But that is too riske for a candidate. Instead, Zi'on stops to just look at her with adoring eyes and smiles.

Rhysanna is flushing again, but she's also turning her head to glance at the table, just for a moment, as if to appraise it. She turns back without comment, though, pleased, her mouth opening for the parfait that— gets taken away from her! "Cheater," she teases, sticking out her tongue, though her mouth's open wide enough for that next bit to get inside. The look in Zi'on's eyes has her hesitating, cheeks flushing darker, but her smile's no less bright for it. "I like being close, too," she says, a belated reply to that earlier statement. "How long is it before the eggs hatch, again?" has a certain impatience to it.

Zi'on grins. "Sorry. Too forward, hm?" He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, either. Though the sexual tension was going to get high from time to time. He chuckles at her, but at least remedies his cheating. He will continue to spoon feed them in turns until the parfait is gone, and then he sets the dish on the table, freeing up his hands so he can wrap them around her. He pulls her in a little close. "That's good. I'm glad." He chuckles a bit then. "A while yet, sorry. And it'll be even longer if you impress. It's okay though. It's good to take it slow. Plus it'll make it that much better when we do finally…"

"Not really," answers Rhysa, though it's hard to tell whether that's wholly the truth or not. She seems otherwise perfectly comfortable, though. After the parfait is gone, she leans in against Zi'on, resting her head upon his chest. "We did say we were just going to… see," she reminds herself. "So. I guess I'll have something to look forward to if I don't Impress, right?" She's silent for a moment, and then adds, "Thank you for dinner. And for… everything."

Zi'on chuckles. "You're hard to read, Rhysa." As long as she's comfortable, the bronzer seems to be at ease. He tucks a stray piece of hair away from her face as she leans in against him. "We are just going to see. That's really all you can do, right?" He chuckles. "I suppose that's one way to look at it, sure. It'll be easier for you as a weyrling though. You'll have a new dragon and tons to do." For Zi'on though, it'll be more difficult. Since they won't even be able to do what they're doing now. "You're welcome. Thanks for sticking it out with me. It's getting late, though. I had hoped for some dancing, but I don't want you to miss curfew." And really, sitting like this was even better than dancing.

"But not so easy for you," surmises Rhysa, putting the unspoken into words, right before she draws herself up enough so that she can kiss him. It's after that that she admits, "I guess I should be getting back. But… maybe we can dance next time. This dress really does need to be seen in action." Reluctantly, she begins to draw herself away; she could probably drag it out for a while, but… she's clearly trying to be good. It would be particularly bad form to miss curfew with the Weyrleader, after all. It's entirely possible, however, that she'll float all the way home.

Zi'on smiles a bit and shrugs. "I'll survive. You're worth the wait." He kisses her back. He would love to drag it out, too, but the less waves they make the less likely things would get noticed by the weyrlingmasters. "Mm. I'd like that. I don't get to dance often. Only during gathers. The bronzer gets up with her, pulling her in for another hug and a kiss. "I'll give you a lift home. You'll have some extra time before then, in case you have things you need to do." He smiles to her. "I had fun tonight." The staff can worry about the clean up. Zi'on offers Rhysa his arm, so they can escape via dragonback back to the weyr proper.

Even better. Rhysa's smile is brilliant as she accepts that arm and lets herself be escorted out. Date success!


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