Demkaih walked towards Fion's house, carrying a sack over one shoulder. He had grabbed an assortment of spices that he wanted to teach her how to make a Mugrobi Biriyani out of some day. Cumin, Coriander, Cinammon, Aniseed and Cardomons. The rest of the ingredients would have to wait till he got a coconut.

There it was, the seamstresses house. He stopped and gathered his thoughts. He was wearing the same red wrap he'd worn the day he met her and all his jewerly. Necklaces, bracelets, anklets and the plugs in his ears. He'd left the daggers at home this time. With a big deep breath, he walked through her gate to the front door and rapped sharply. Then he stood back, and waited.

Fion was sitting at her kitchen table, with her dog and her son facing her with big, trusting eyes.

She cleared her throat.

"Now, I've asked Demkaih over for dinner tonight. I know you've been asking me to but that's not the only reason." Fion's face went a little red. "I think he's a very nice man and I haven't really seen anyone since your father passed."

She gave Piran a shrewd glance.

"Except for accidentally." Sometimes people asked her to discuss something over a drink and she hadn't realised that drinks were more than liquid down your throat. "Would it bother you if Demkaih and I started courting? I won't do it if it really bothers you but... I'm not going to cut him out of my life either. What do you think?"

Fion watched her son carefully. Then she heard the knock on the door. Her heart beat faster. Fion didn't stand straight away. She wanted to hear what Piran had to say first.

Alioe, she wanted to run to the door.

Piran looked intensely at his mother, wondering why she was asking his permission. She was a grown-up, and normally told him what to do.

"I think it would be a good idea," he said seriously. "He is strong and can beat people up if they bother us."

Fion let out a small laugh. Not quite the response she'd been going for but it was still positive and that was all for the good.

"Yeah. Thanks sweets." Fion kissed the top of his head and gave Stride a pat as she turned for the door.

Her steps were as quick as she could make them without looking completely eager in front of Piran. She pulled the bolt and turned the door knob, opening the door with a big smile on her face.

"Hi Dem," She said, nervousness starting to kick in again. "Want to come in?"

He was dressed the way he had been when they'd first met. He looked good. She hoped her hair looked ok.

Maybe there was some higher power, she'd certainly never been this lucky before.

Demkaih grinned as she opened the door. She looked just beautiful, as always. Suddenly he wished he'd brought flowers. Instead, he nodded and walked inside, cocking his head towards the sack.

"I brought you some spices, my poppy. They are ones that you can use in your normal cooking, but they are also for a special mugroba dish that I want to teach you, erm, when I can find a coconut, some fresh ginger and fresh garlic." He stopped himself and chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I talk to much about spice." Looking around, he turned back to her.

"Is Piran here?"

"No you don't." Fion said, smiling moonily. She hoped she wasn't blushing too much. "Piran's just in the kitchen."

Fion dropped her voice a little lower.

"Um, if he mentions anything about... rough-housing... Please ignore it." Fion loved her little boy but she did occasionally worry about his forward planning skills and just how developed they were.

Fion looped their hands together for a moment.

"Come on, take a seat. You can show me what to do in a moment. Would you like a drink?" Fion tugged lightly on his hand, directing him into the kitchen.

She really hoped this went well. At least the house was clean now.

Demkaih sort of craned to see into the kitchen, but he was just in the wrong spot.



The dark man stifled a laugh. He remembered when he was a boy and he thought all the older men he admired were like warriors that he would one day become. Most of them were just farmers, but boys had over active imaginations.



Demkaih nodded, allowing himself to be led. Once in the kitchen he saw Piran and Stride. He nodded a greeting to the boy and the bander. Turning his attention back to Fion, he put a hand on her arm.

"Before you do that, my poppy, I need to start the onion cooking for the Biriyani. May I have two onions and a knife? Whilst I chop it, could you put some butter in a fry pan and set it to medium high? We need to cook the onion till its translucent, and that can take a little while. It can cook whilst we have a drink." He grinned, thoroughly at home in the kitchen.

Fion felt glee rise internally. He could cook. Not only could he cook, he was helping out in a kitchen!

Fion pulled out some onions, a sturdy wooden chopping board and a knife. She lifted a heavy pan off the wall and placed it on top of her stove, quickly ducking outside for a moment to grab some extra wood. Fion pulled a block of butter out of the cold box and used a table knife to flick some into the pan.

She grabbed some glasses from her cupboard and pulled out a bottle of wine she'd taken from work. She'd paid for it but Archi had given her a discount. Bless him.

"Do you want some wine?" She asked Demkaih, as she happily watched him work.

The tall mugrobi man deftly skinned the onions, then with a thok, thok, thok he quickly diced the onions and threw them into the sizzling pan. Swilling the pan a little, he smiled at her.

"Yes, I would love a glass of wine and also a cup of water. Where should I put these onion skins?" He looked over at Piran.

"Would you like to help at all Piran? I need to peel two whole garlics. Thats about sixteen cloves."

Piran smiled when Demkaih entered the kitchen, and burst into a fit of giggles when he called Fion his "poppy", but at the prospect of helping out he became serious and adultlike again.

"Yes, sir," he said meekly, slipping out of his chair and taking the bulb of garlic.

He looked at the knobby white thing in his palm, one eyebrow slowly raising.

"Uh..." he said, looking up at Demkaih, unsure of what to do next.

Fion gently took the clove out of Piran's hands, tailed it with her knife and handed it back. She quickly demonstrated how the skin came off fairly easily after that.

"There you go," She said after, gently kissing the top of his head, "Thank you for helping, P."

Fion smiled at him happily, he was such a good boy. She turned to Demkaih.

"Oh, let me take those, I have a small bin that we use for scraps until we take them to the compost pit." Fion cupped them in her hands and put them into scrap bin. She took a moment to wash her hands before pouring herself and Demkaih a glass of wine. She also poured two glasses of water from a jug, one for Piran and one for Dem.

"There you go," She said, almost shyly as she passed Dem his wine glass.

This was going very well.

Piran peeled the garlic with intense concentration, scoring little marks in its skin with his fingernails in his effort to be thorough. Luckily, his fingernails had been viciously scoured of all dirt before Demkaih came over.

He walked over to the tall Mugrobi man and handed him the peeled garlic, and, when his mother wasn't looking, motioned for him to lean down.

"Have you ever killed a man?" he whispered.

Smiling his thanks, Demkaih took a sip of the wine. It was a good, deep, sweet wine and he nodded in silent approval. Then he lifted the glass of water, regarded it for a moment, then tipped half into the frypan. The sizzling got louder for a moment, then died down a little as the water broiled the onions softly. He stirred it a bit, then turned to look at Piran, watching the boy deal with the garlic cloves.



The tall man took another mouthful of wine and bent down to the boy, his head close to Pirans.



Almost choking on the wine, Demkaih took a moment to swallow it, then chuckled.

"Not ever when I didn't need to." He said softly, winking. Straightening, he took the garlic and placed it on the chopping board. Using the flat of Fion's knife, he bashed it flat, then diced it quickly, mincing it. Placing the knife on the board, he walked to the table and sat down. The onions still had a little bit to go before he needed to continue. Taking another sip of the sweet wine, he looked at Fion with far away eyes. Being here with her and Piran just felt right.

"Do you still have the gift I gave you?" He asked softly, wanting to know if she remembered the other day as much as he did, without spelling it out in front of Piran. He grinned teasingly, taking another drink.

Fion missed the exchange save for the moment Demkaih half-choked on a mouthful of red.

She hoped Piran wasn't being too inquisitive again. She couldn't look the postman in the eye anymore.



Fion blushed and fumbled with the plates she'd been pulling out of her china cupboard. She blushed scarlet and moved so she was a little out of Piran's sight.

"I do." She said smiling, she took it out to look at it almost every night. "It's lovely."

She felt a strong urge to walk over and kiss him again but she wasn't going to do it in front of Piran. Sometimes she hated having patience.

"I, uh, was wondering if you wanted some shirts made. I have some spare linen at the moment." She said, hoping he'd say yes so she'd be able to get his measurements.

Which would also allow her to take his measurements. All her years of being a 'good girl' couldn't quell her interest in getting to do that. He had such nice legs...

Demkaih's grin broadened and he made a show of looking down at the wine he swilled in his glass. So she did remember it as much as he did. Glancing up at her under his eyebrows, his pale blue eyes took on a hint of something more than just amusement. But as soon as it was there, it was gone. Demkaih was not one to expose Piran to such things. Private things.



Demkaih downed the last of the wine and stood, walking back to his onions which were now ready to use. Taking the garlic, he threw it in the pan, then grabbed two pinches of cumin, aniseed and coriander. Turning to Fion he smiled.

"I was actually going to ask you that. I do prefer to wear the traditional dress of my people, but I feel I attract a lot of attention. I would very much like it if you could make me some shirts. And perhaps some trousers too. I can not wear jodhpurs everywhere." He grinned.

"Do you have ginger? I need a knob of it, and about two handfuls of diced hingle."

Fion caught Demkaih's heated look and was relieved when he let it go quickly. He made her heart race but she didn't want Piran to know just how much, yet.



Oh, how Fion wished he would wear jodphurs everywhere...

"Hmm?" She said, jostled from her reverie, "Oh, just let me grab it."

Fion kept some ginger growing outside, she'd used up the last of what she had inside, yesterday. She fiddled in her veggie patch, finally finding the ginger, pulling it out and dusting it off. She'd need to buy another plant soon.

Piran's eyes grew wider at Demkaih's answer, and he nodded, slowly, impressed.

The boy got the distinct impression his mother was embarrassed. She had the same expression that she sometimes got when he asked questions, though he didn't know why most of the time.

"Mum?" he said, tugging on her apron. "Can I go wash up before dinner?"

He planned to go play with his toys, of course, but it never hurt to phrase the question in a way that she would appreciate.

Fion came back inside, having quickly washed her hands and the ginger using a pump outside. She looke down to see Piran tugging at her apron.

"Sure, that's probably an excellent idea." She said smiling, knowing he was bored from hanging around adults or displaying one of his flares of destructive insight and giving them privacy. "I'll call when dinner's ready."

Fion ruffled his hair gently and watched him walk up the ladder to his room. She quickly walked over to Demkaih.

"What did he ask you?" She whispered. She didn't want to know but she still felt the need to ask.

The tall man grinned and took the ginger from her, peeling the skin off and mincing it like he did the garlic.

"Secret men's business." He said, grinning the whole time. Throwing the garlic into the sizzling pan he brushed his hands off, then turned to give Fion a quick kiss.

"Hingle, my poppy? And a cup of hingle stock and a coconut if you have them. Otherwise a cup of yoghurt will do fine." He spoke as though the kiss was the most normal thing in the world.

Fion was pouting and getting ready to pester him further but the kiss completely ameliorated her.

"Fine," She said fake-petulantly, enjoying the casual intimacy. She'd missed that sort of contact since moving to Vienda. It had been lonely.



Fion frowned slightly and went to fetch the stock, placing it by Demkaih's elbow.

"I keep most of the foodstuffs in this cupboard," She said, pointing, already presuming he'd be back again at some point and wanted to know.

She pulled a big round pod out of a canvas bag. She'd seen coconuts at the grocers the other day and had bought some on a whim. She didn't know what to do with them.

"Is this a coconut?" She asked, pod in hand. "I was told it was but I've never seen one before, so..."

Fion left the sentence hanging, shrugging her shoulders.

Demkaih cocked an eyebrow and continued grinning foolishly.



He took note of the cupboard she'd pointed out, storing the information for future reference. The idea that he already believed he would be here again struck him for a moment. Anaxas had been a land to start a spice shop, maybe trade for a few years then go back home. Meeting a woman like Fion and her boy Piran was never on the cards, and he had to admit, it was a wonderful surprise.



Demkaih laughed suddenly, taking the coconut and bouncing it on his palm.

"Indeed, this is a coconut. When they are fresh from the tree, they have a thick green husk on them. It is a lot of effort to take if off if you do not know how. But the reward is this small hard pod." He brought it to his ear and shook it.

"Excellent. This one is particularly full." He turned her knife around, placing the coconut on the board and rapped it sharply on the top where three dark spots gathered. A hollow chock! noise came from the brown seed and Demkaih quickly lifted it up and pulled open it over the cup of stock. A milky coloured liquid dropped into the brown liquid. Putting the coconut halves aside, he pointed to the cold box.

"Hingle is in there right?"

"Wow," Fion said, impressed, "I didn't know you could do that. You have to show me later."

Fion nodded at Dem.

"Yes, the hingle's in there."

Fion's chest felt warm and fuzzy. She could get used to someone cooking for her. She smiled warmly at Demkaih's back.

Demkaih winked at her, then walked over and opened the cold box, identifying and grabbing out the hingle. There wasn't much need to dice the meat as it came off the small creatures in bits and pieces anyway. Taking the canvas bag to the frypan, he tipped it into the sizzling spices and stirred it around, searing the meat aned sealing in the flavours. After it had browned he tipped the stock and coconut milk mix into the pan, gave it a good stir and left it alone. He opened the stove door, checking the wood was inside and picked up the flint that was sitting on the bench. Deftly, he lit the stove and closed the hatch to let it heat up.

Smiling at Fion, he walked to the table and sat down.

"That was beautiful wine, Fion." He said with a satisfied sigh. Everything about this afternoon was turning out so well. The hingle was simmering nicely, the wine was good and the company was great. He stretched his arms up and rested his hands on his head, just watching the seamstress.

"What do you dream of, my lovely woman? Are you going to stay in Vienda your whole life? And Piran too?"

Fion smiled at the compliment, feeling a sense of ease at having Dem close by and relaxed.



Fion sighed, leaning down for a moment to rub Stride's ears under the table.

"Honestly, I hadn't planned on staying even this long. I moved here when I was pregnant with P and just... didn't have time or money to leave." Fion rested her chin on her hand, "I'd love to move somewhere where the whole golly versus human thing wasn't going on. This isn't the nicest place to raise a wick. If Piran wasn't so... Piran, I think he'd be getting trouble from the older boys."

Fion had a horrible thought, what if Demkaih planned to leave?

"How long do you think you'll stay in Vienda? Mugroba sounds like such an interesting place, I don't think Vienda really compares." Fion smiled lopsidedly, "At least not favourably."

Demkaih pulled his hands down and crossed his arms. Mugroba was his home, and he loved it. But he didn't plan on going back yet.

"I'm not sure. I do not plan on leaving in the near future, but who can predict what the God's will bring? Vienda is not as beautiful, but it has its qualities." He grinned again.

"One day, I will take you to Mugroba. For a holiday. I will show you to my family." Suddenly he cleared his throat.

"I mean, I will take you to see them, because...they are..nice." He said lamely. He felt so comfortable with Fion that he almost could believe she would be his wife, but their meeting the other night showed she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. He slapped his thighs and stood.

"Do you have a large casserole dish?" He asked, pulling open the food cupboard and locating a bag of rice.