Dreaming in the Storm
#23 of The wolf and the rose
Alrighty, since my schedule has been so screwy, I have decided to change my update policy. As such, here is the next chapter of the Wolf and the Rose story series. I hope you enjoy it.
As always, comments are appreciated and requested.
Continued from 'In the Gathering Dark...'
Julianna sat on the edge of the wide bed, staring into the darkness of the bedchamber, her mind racing, heart hammering in her chest. The morning had only just begun outside the walls of the Hall of Hunters, the pale light of dawn tinged grey with heavy rain, the storm clouds that had been gathering throughout the day before seeming finally to have let loose. The werewolf woman had been looking forward to the storm, mostly because it would send many of the inhabitants of the Slayerhold inside for the day, leaving the streets empty save for the hearty hunters and the oldest veterans of the Order, and then only when they needed to be out and about. Her wish that the storm would open into rain today had been a tad selfish, since it would give her and Galen an excuse to spend the day in each other's company, preferably snuggling in bed, or perhaps even doing something more intimate. They had spent entirely too long apart during the last week, Galen having been summoned by his brothers to the training complex to pass on some of the things he had learned to the classes of young aspirants. Julianna herself had been called to the Temple of Auré by Galen's mother for much the same reason soon after. And though they both knew it was necessary to do it, every day had been like a constant ache, not being able to be together was like torture. When they had reunited in the evenings, they had clung to each other as if they had been apart for weeks or longer.
Of course, now, in the predawn twilight, another reason had supplanted that one, a far greater reason than just the longing for a lazy day spent in the arms of her mate. Looking down at the smooth stones of the floor before her, she watched the shifting patterns of light that flowed across them, brought to life by a candle's flame that danced on the bedside table. The werewolf woman shook her head, finding no inspiration. Before her, she did not see the lights and shadows that seemed to vie for dominance over the stone, but rather the images that moved in the world of dreams, just on the cusp of her memory. Closing her eyes once more, the young woman allowed the images to swirl around her once again, returning for a moment to the dream that had driven her to awaken, but not from its terror, as a nightmare would have, but rather from its warmth, its joy. And yet, still, it had left her shaken to her very core.
It had seemed to her that she dreamed of some far off day, a day of summer perhaps, for the sky was pale blue, a few wispy clouds drifting across its surface here and there. She had been sitting in the soft grass near the shore of a tranquil mountain lake, wild flowers peeking out from within the grass around her, the surface of the water before her so clear that it reflected the sky and the clouds like a second horizon, opposing the one high above it. The slopes leading down to the shore across the lake had been covered in brilliant green aspen trees, trailing in unbroken ranks up to proud evergreens, spruce, pine and fir in shifting patterns all the way up to tree line, just below the snow crowned peaks. All the branches seemed to dance and sway this way and that in the breezes of a wind that seemed somehow not to stir the waters of the lake before her feet. Her mate had been sitting beside her in the dream, as they had once sat in the wild on their way to Gulnia, one arm around her waist, though in the dream, he seemed to look a little different than he had before.
It was not so much a physical difference, for the grey werewolf was still hale and strong, a man at the very peak of life. Instead, it seemed to be a change in his eyes, a different expression held within them then she had ever seen. The look seemed to be one of utter content, lacking the usual fierceness he had acquired living the hard life of a demon hunter. And yet, his eyes seemed deeper somehow, like the deepest of deep wells and there was something else too; a quality of wisdom in his gaze, of knowledge and wondrous sights that few, if any, had seen before. Their cloaks were laid beside them on the grass, and their fur seemed damp, as if they had just been swimming, but as they had sat together, enjoying the bright day about them, the breeze finally seemed to stir the lake, marring the reflection in the shining surface as the fluid swirled beneath it.
Small waves began to lap upon the smoothed stones of the shore at their feet, the cooling caress of the breeze pleasant, a thrilling shiver of sensation as it swirled through her drying white fur. It seemed to the former princess that she had heard a melody running through the dream, a song that was so unlike any she had heard before. Its tune was not quite sung, nor played upon any instrument she knew, and yet it was undeniably beautiful, a duet it seemed, two tunes intertwined, combined wonderfully to make a single song, a richer harmony than either alone could ever have been. And then, as she had listened, the song seemed to shift, a third joining in with the others, enriching the harmony of the music, the melody of the wind in the trees and the stream in its bed as it left the lake forming a perfect backdrop to it all. Even as the strange song grew in her dream, the pair by the tranquil lake were joined by another silhouette, a third werewolf that was not like any she had heard described before.
The newcomer seemed to be a young man, his fur mostly grey, as Galen's was, but lighter, somewhere between white and his darker shade. That in itself was not remarkable, but far more striking was the patch of snowy white that stretched from chin to belly, and a curling stripe of the same color that seemed to wrap its way up his legs from below the knee to his hip, and another from fingertip to shoulder. The young wolf had a slight build, somewhat lanky, the look of teenager who had recently undergone a growth spurt, and what was more, his young brown eyes were unmarked by the long, wearying fight of Galen, nor the remnants of the ordered, priestly training of Julianna. Then, as the strange young wolf had sat down beside them, joining them in gazing into the lake, lounging back in relaxation, the revelation of what she was seeing had suddenly dawned in her mind and she had awoken, her heart hammering.
In those first few moments of waking, Julianna had thought that it was nothing more than a dream, a brief musing of her unconscious, conjured from the ether of distant wants and desires. But as the moments had passed, and the dream had lingered on in her mind, instead of fading away as most others had, other elements had begun to come together in her awareness, small details it seemed, at least at first, but as they had gathered in her thoughts, she had began to doubt her own conclusion, as if her subconscious was trying to tell her something.
Ever since they had arrived in the Slayerhold, where food was in plenty and they were finally safe, her appetite had grown by leaps and bounds. Every meal, she had found herself eating more and more. And more, she had found herself sleeping more as well, much more than could be explained by finally being at peace. Until now, she had been willing to write off both of those odd things as little more than side effects of being a werewolf. After all, she had only been one for a few short months; there could have been all manner of changes that she had yet to experience. But somehow, she had doubted that explanation all along, though she could not explain why. And there were other things as well, little things, things that, by themselves were nothing, but taken together...
Little gestures she caught herself making, such as idly resting an arm across her belly when she was sitting still, soft sighs of content that seemed to come from nowhere, for little reason. And then there was the way she had found herself acting around Galen. For as long as she had known him, she had felt an attraction to him, a feeling that had swiftly grown as they had fallen in love. And after Galen had shared the great gift of what he was with her, she had understood at once what it meant when two werewolves chose to become mates, as they had done. And yet, it was only after that wonderful night in the Aspenhald that she possessed the urge, the overriding need, for the affection of her mate, a need that had grown ever more powerful as the days had gone on. And finally, after musing in silence for a few minutes, she had come to a conclusion, the only explanation that could answer all the questions at once. And now that she had finally accepted it, the thought had been inescapable, so powerful it had overwhelmed her.
Unable to sit still, Julianna had slipped to the side, out of the warm, comfortable embrace of her mate, resting her feet on the cold floor of the bed chamber, staring down at herself. Ever since she had gone off to be trained by the priesthood, she had made a point to keep herself trim, as befitted one dedicated to the service of the gods. And still, her body was as trim as ever, unchanged, even by her transformation into a werewolf. But, all the same, she thought, or perhaps imagined, that there had been a change, an almost imperceptible bulging to her belly. She knew that there was no way that she could be far enough along to show it yet, but still, knowing what she now knew, it was hard not to expect there to be some sign, some outward change.
Even now, long minutes after accepting the truth, she was still trying to come to grips with the idea, still trying to take in all that it meant. On the one hand, the very notion of it had stunned her. After all, she and her mate had resolved that they would return to the wild when the council had released them from whatever grave matter had called them to the Hold. It was where they both knew they belonged, where they were happiest, despite the dangers of being out there. But that was no way to... she shook her head. She couldn't put it in words yet, not even unspoken ones. And yet, on the other hand...she was ecstatic, excited beyond reason and rationality. She wanted this, wanted it more than anything. And she knew, too, that when Galen found out, he would feel the same way that she did, or so she thought anyway.
Galen... Turning back to the bed, she looked at her lover as he slept, and a warm smile worked its way onto her lips, a smile that she couldn't help. She had never told him before, but she cherished the rare moments like this one, when she could see him like this, the rare occasions when she could watch him sleep. It was the only time she ever saw him truly be at peace. Even wandering in the Aspenhald, there had been the shadow of worry on him, a shadow so distant that it was only barely perceptible, but all the same, it was there, haunting him. But when he was asleep, all the lines of worry and care, the hidden weight of twenty long, harsh years of conflict in the wild disappeared, leaving his handsome lupine features untouched, smoothed as never before. Smiling to herself, the white werewolf cupped a hand behind the candle flame and blew it out, plunging the room back into darkness. Sliding her legs back into the bed and beneath the blanket, Julianna gently tucked herself against Galen's warm fur, resting her head on his chest, just beneath his chin. Smiling in his sleep at the familiar sensation, Galen unconsciously laid an arm around her, gently pulling her closer, pressing their bodies together.
Laying aside her worries, and the fear that they had brought, Julianna closed her eyes, allowing drowsiness to steal over her once more. Without giving it another thought, the former princess drew in a lasting breath and fell asleep, tucked within the embrace of her mate, the new life that was growing in her belly held lovingly between them...
***
"Are you alright?" Galen asked, and Julianna looked up at her mate, giving him a surprised smile.
"Of course." She replied, shaking her head. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you have seemed distracted all day." The grey werewolf answered, smiling in turn and gesturing towards the fireplace they were seated by. "Case in point..."
"Hmmm?" Julianna questioned, looking where he pointed and gasping, pulling the toasting fork she was holding back out of the fireplace, the hunk of bread she had been toasting now resembling a torch. "Oh!! Oops."
"Seriously, what is on your mind, love?" Galen questioned, chuckling as he plucked the flaming baked good from the end of the fork with his sharp claws and tossed it back into the coals.
"Oh, I was just thinking about the fountain and the visions we have both had." She replied, watching wistfully as the bread camouflaged itself with the burning wood, leaving behind the appetizing scent of burnt toast. "All the preparations going on around here have started to worry me."
"I know what you mean." Galen replied, spearing a piece of ham on the end of his fork and extending it towards the fire. "I have never seen so many Slayers in one place before. I don't think anyone has."
Julianna nodded and reached for another piece of bread, resolved to pay closer attention to her work. The rain was still carrying on unabated outside the walls of the Hall, and most of the Hunters were in the large common room, none of them seeming to mind that the two lovers were spending the day in their quarters, only emerging to take a small basket of food back to their room. So far, the day had been everything that Julianna had wished for. The pair had spent all morning doing nothing more than snuggling, talking idly about inconsequential things, only emerging around noon to get the basket of food they were snacking on. But even now, she knew, more Slayers and priests were arriving in the Slayerhold.
It had begun about the time that the Galnikins had been vindicated by the council, with the arrival of the rest of Aldric's force that had fought in Gulnia, and it had never stopped. Every day, more and more Slayers and their allies had arrived until the city was overflowing with demon hunters. When they had arrived, they couldn't have been more than a thousand Slayers in the hold, even counting those in the Argent Guard. Now, there were many times that number, not to mention large contingents of Alarand's Chosen and even battalions of Night Lancers, the latter being an organization of demon hunters that didn't follow a specific god. And most of the arriving warriors had been accompanied by cadres of priests, the great Temple positively packed with them.
There had been members of the priesthoods of Auré, Alarand and Arnath of course, but also representatives of many of the neutral gods as well; shave-headed monks of Covarus, the god of knowledge, a group of heavily tattooed men and women bearing the sailing ship medallion of Serid the Mariner, goddess of the sea, strangely arriving at the same time as the fiery clothed followers of Targath, the spirit of fire, ostensibly opposites, yet they greeted each other cordially. And then there were the followers of Ovniran, god of the forge, clad all in armor and wearing belts of woven wire of many colors, and the minstrels and bards hailing from the halls of Myro, the goddess of music, who seemed to live perpetually with a song upon their lips. Latest to arrive had been the hulking, muscle bound disciples of Kuor, the god of strength, who showed their devotion to their faith by building and toning their muscles until they could perform incredible feats that no one else could match. Having seen them showing off their talents by only two of them lifting a laden wagon off the ground between them, Julianna thought that even Galen and Teyan would have a hard time matching their strength. And yet, for all the newcomers, still, there were only eleven Hunters in the Hall, and from what Julianna could understand, there was only one more expected, the rest were scattered too far to gather in time, or else had not yet received the summons.
Taking the fork out of the fire once more, Julianna examined her bread, which had been toasted to a perfect golden brown this time, and smiled, reaching for the small clay pot of butter they were sharing. Even as she spread a pat of butter across the toast, the female werewolf tried not to think about the real reason she was so distracted. She had intended to tell Galen her secret, really she had, but every time she came close to it, she couldn't seem to find the words. And yet, how could she keep it from him? Especially now, with word having spread throughout the hold by messengers that a great council would begin tomorrow in the keep, which meant that soon after a decision would be reached, at least, it was to be hoped it would be swift. Laying a slice of ham on top of the melting butter, Julianna took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Maybe it would be better if she didn't tell him now. He had enough to worry about, the recent agitation of his brothers and the other Hunters being quite infectious. Even though he seemed happy, sitting there with her before the fire, toasting bites of food like any other normal couple did on stormy days, she could scent it on him, the pressure and stress beginning to build within him once more.
Shaking her head as her love pulled the now sizzling chunk of ham on the stick from the fire and examined it, licking his lips hungrily, Julianna smiled and finally let her thoughts go. If her instincts were right, and a decision was to be made soon, then these moments of leisure would be fleeting, so they should enjoy them while they had them. She would keep her silence, at least until it got to where she could no longer hide the secret...
***
Julianna came out of her sleep in an instant when she felt her lover shift beside her, sliding out from under the covers. Opening her eyes to the darkness of their bedchamber, the white furred werewolf at once sensed what had roused Galen. Though the room looked the same as it had when they had fallen asleep the night before, the dark chamber was filled with a strange weight, almost of anticipation, the sort of feeling that set the teeth on edge, honing the senses to razor sharpness. The werewolf she loved was already rising, draping the twilight grey Hunter's cloak around his shoulders, his movements quick, responding to the urgency of the moment. Rising from the bed in her lover's wake, the former princess took up her own cloak, clasping the green cloth closed at her breast. Looking over to see that she was clad as he was, Galen nodded, leading the way out of the room. Neither needed to speak in those moments, both feeling the same, unconscious instinct to move, to hunt for the source of the sensation.
Slipping down the corridor with the silent movements only a lycan could match, heading for the common room and the way outside, the pair hunted, following a sense that did not seem to belong to scent, sight or hearing. Outside the windows of the hall, it was the deepest night, the storm having given up its drenching of the Hold in the hours just after dusk, but the clouds remained, obscuring the moon. The large common room was empty, the fires banked for the night, only a faint glow coming from the coals and Galen paused at the entrance, drawing himself up to his full height. Then, raising his head and drawing in deep breaths of air, as if trying to catch an elusive scent, the grey werewolf suddenly jerked his head in the direction of the corridor leading up to the ridge behind the Hall. Without quite understanding why, Julianna nodded her agreement; that was the way they needed to go. Picking up their pace to a trot, the pair slipped from the Hall and stole up the hill, their senses alert for any threat, though what creature would be fool enough to attack the Hold with so many demon hunters inside it, neither knew.
Finally, after several minutes of hurried movement, the pair paused atop the ridge, where the wide shoulder of land butted up against the other arm of stone, their hearts hammering out a swift beat that had nothing to do with their swift journey. The very air that filled their lungs seemed charged with energy, the sort of power that came only from powerful magic. Both had felt the caress of the warm energy of the Holy powers of the good gods, and the shivering thrill of the werewolf magic, and even the evil, unclean touch of the dark powers, but this was unlike any of them. This was something different. Seeking its source, the lovers looked about them, their eyes wide in the darkness. Then, the white werewolf paused, staring at the cliff face, at the crux of the two arms of stone. There was nothing out of the ordinary there for her to see, at least it did not seem so, but still...
"Galen." Julianna whispered and her mate turned to her, his ears perked straight up, eyes flashing with wary awareness. "There." Cocking his head, the grey Hunter walked up to spot she indicated, looking at it curiously. Finally, he paused when he was next to the stone, reaching out for the exposed rock with a slow hand. After a moment's hesitation, Galen laid his hand upon the stone and passed it across it, feeling its texture, his eyes closed.
"You are right." He finally whispered, turning to look at her. "There is something here. Its like...its waiting for something, waiting for us."
"To do what?" Julianna asked, perplexed.
"I don't know." Galen replied, and the white werewolf walked up beside him, laying her hands beside his on the stone. He was right. There was something there, a presence almost, but not quite that focused. Then, suddenly, as both werewolves pressed their hands against it, the stone seemed almost to shiver, as if the very mountain itself was coming to life. Both stepped back at once, ready for anything. With the same sound as boulders grinding together, the stone of the cliff side shifted apart, sliding this way and that, until it revealed a passageway down into the earth, smooth sided as if it had been worked by files and sandpaper over centuries. And yet, the floor was altogether different, having an obvious, deliberate texture, almost like rough tiles of ceramic. Exchanging the same look of bewilderment, the two wolves took a breath and stepped into the cave, the same instinct that had drawn them to this place pointing the way inside. And though nothing happened when their feet touched the oddly textured floor, Julianna took her lover's hand, seeking comfort and Galen gripping it reassuringly. Then, with only the rushing of their pulse in their ears, the pair walked slowly down the gently sloping passage.
The walls on either side were almost unnaturally smooth, no tool marks to be seen, and though the passage was narrow enough that only one could pass at a time, it didn't feel claustrophobic, as one might expect. Despite the utter darkness that seemed to fill the tunnel, it was not uncomfortable, though the air was still heavy, and yet energetic, driving her sense of anticipation. Aside from her lover's comforting scent, Julianna could detect only the scent of stone, slightly damp as with rain or dew. And then, she felt the warrior that led her on pause, peering forward curiously. Unwilling to disturb the silence of stone, the former princess looked forward as well, and at first, she could not see what had caused her love to stop. Then, gradually, she began to perceive what he had seen. It might just have been her imagination trying to liven up the darkness, but there seemed to be a faint glimmer up ahead, perhaps a light, though it was not fire, for it was silvery white, not quite the same hue as the werewolf magic that Galen commanded, but obviously akin.
Moving even more slowly, the pair crept down the passage once more. As they walked, Julianna began to count her steps, the unchanging quality of the dark passage making her nervous. Ten steps on, she became convinced that there was indeed a light down there, though it was barely there, a ghost light, like a reflection in a well of ink. Fifteen, twenty steps, twenty five and then all of a sudden, the pair stopped short, Julianna letting out a soft gasp that echoed strangely as if left her lips. The passage seemed to have suddenly opened out into a cavern, perhaps natural, though there were no stalagmites to be seen. The walls were probably as smooth as the passage, which might have explained the echo, but Julianna hardly noticed.
The source of the light was enough to take all of her attention, and still she could not quite believe it. The faint light came from a basin made of pure, smooth silver that hovered in the center of the room at about waist height with nothing at all supporting it. And inside the smooth vessel seemed to be coals like the dying remnants of a fire, but they shone silver-white, not red-orange. Taking a few steps into the chamber, approaching the apparition carefully, both werewolves knew that this was the source of the odd energy, that this was where it had all come from. And this too, perhaps explained the reason why only they had been aware of it, why only they had come out in search of it. For if this, whatever it was, was, as it seemed, akin to the power of their companion spirits, then only they could have sensed it was there. But why now, after so long in the Hold?
"Have you ever heard of anything like this?" Galen asked, his voice a hoarse whisper, as if afraid to disturb the air. And indeed, when he spoke, the silver embers seemed almost to flare white, as if the flame that had created them was coming back to life.
"Never." Julianna replied, the word barely audible as if it was reluctant to escape from her lips.
Moving slowly, the grey werewolf strode up to the basin, his eyes unblinking as he stared at the shifting colors within the basin, mesmerized. Swallowing nervously, the former princess took a step closer as well, having to force herself not to look at the coals. Galen suddenly stopped, just within arm's reach of the floating basin, his eyes going wide, because the coals had finally changed. Though they had appeared solid at first, now they seemed to become a liquid akin to quicksilver, flowing together into a pool, a liquid mirror that none the less shifted and flowed as if a current passed through it, from white to silver and back again. After a moment of staring, Galen leaned over the basin, moving slowly, almost reluctantly, as if half trying to stop himself. But, before Julianna could call out a warning, the sun cross medallion that Galen wore around his neck, within an inch of touching the silver surface, suddenly blazed with a brilliant gold light, a spark seeming to leap from it, touching the silver liquid. At once Galen jerked his head back, almost falling backward with the movement, for the shining surface suddenly kindled with tall silver-white flames that seemed almost to reach the ceiling, fire that seemed almost to chill the air, rather than warming it.
And then, before either of them could speak, they let out a gasp in the same moment, for within the heart of the fire, as through a window, images appeared, images that were as clear as day. First, they saw mountains, towering peaks that seemed almost to never end, reaching up to claw at the heavens, almost half of their height ever-white with never melted snow. The view surged along the lower ridges, down into a valley half obscured by a glimmering waterfall to the foot of a high, flat topped peak. Then, it dove down into cave, like a tunnel within the stone, a tunnel that led straight through the mountain. Then, the view seemed to race down the far slopes, down to a lake, wide and clear, that nestled within the foothills. Then, it sped along the banks of a river, flying swifter than any bird. North the view took them, then east, out into a vast plain, towards a grove of jade green trees, trees with leaves of burnished gold. And at its heart they perceived once again the fountain of jade and gold, with its glowing stream flowing about it. Then the view seemed to vanish, replaced by an image of the symbols of the gods of good, strangely intertwined, the golden sunburst of Auré resting behind the green tree of Alarand, and both symbols almost cupped by the healing hands of Arnath. Then around them in a ring, other symbols began to appear, the symbols of the neutral gods, harp and ship, book and hammer, a blazing fire and a clenched fist, all connected by silver-white, the six and the three joined into one. Then, suddenly, Julianna heard it, a sound within the dancing flames, a sound that grew louder with every moment.
It was the melody from the dream she had had the night before, a duet, swiftly joined by a third in rich harmony. And then, all at once, the flames disappeared, as though they had never been there at all, the swirling liquid becoming like to coals once again. Both werewolves stood stock still, their eyes wide in the dim light, stunned by what they had just experienced. After a few minutes of breathing in silence, Galen finally shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Then, he turned away from the basin, settling down on the floor with his legs stretched out before him, his back to the silver bowl. Wrenching her gaze away from the basin as well, Julianna joined him, sitting down and drawing in a slow, shuddering breath. The feeling of weight in the air was clearing, as if the silver flames had burned it off like a fog, and the former princess felt her throbbing heart begin to calm.
"I think..." Galen began, his voice sounding distant, as if his mind was far away. "I think it showed us where to find the fountain."
"Yes." Julianna replied, shivering. "But I didn't recognize any of the landmarks."
"But I do." Galen said, sounding surprised at his own words. "The first one anyway. Years and years ago, while I was wandering far to the north of the Hold, I saw mountains like that in the distance. I spent a week or more within sight of them, hunting packs of demons, but before I turned back south, I think I remember seeing a mountain with a flat top."
"Then we should go and tell someone, right now!" Julianna said, starting to get to her feet. But a gentle hand on her arm stopped her and she looked at her mate in surprise. The grey werewolf was looking at her with a strange expression on his face, his head cocked slightly as if seeing her in a new light for the first time.
"Julianna..." He began, sounding exhilarated. "You're with child."
"How did you..?" She questioned, her mouth falling open in shock.
"I...I don't know." Galen replied. "But I'm right, aren't I?"
"Yes." Julianna answered quietly, his sudden statement catching her off guard. "I only realized it this morning. I was trying to find a way to tell you." The expression on her mate's face was so different from anything she had ever seen that she couldn't quite make out what it meant. It wasn't worried, or angry, nor was it precisely happy. Worried, the werewolf woman asked the question she had most feared. "Are you alright? I didn't want to make you angry..."
"Angry?" He repeated sounding surprised, then his look changed, becoming the broadest, warmest smile she had ever seen. "My love, this is wonderful. Only in my wildest dreams did I imagine that this was possible. Nothing could make me happier than this." Returning his smile with one of utmost relief, Julianna embraced her mate tightly, her heart rejoicing as she clung to him, and felt him hug her tightly too him as well. For a long moment, the pair stayed that way, holding tight to one another in silence, then Julianna finally spoke once more.
"I guess we are going to have to get married now." She said, the wonderfully absurd notion muffled by Galen's embrace. "It just won't do for us to have children otherwise." She felt Galen chuckle, giving her a gentle squeeze.
"And here I thought we were past all that." He said, making her laugh...