House Warming

[Molly Quincannon] The requisite game of phone tag had been played, and Operation Dinner at Nathan's is a go. On the appointed day and time, after a circuitous route through Chicago just in case (including a stop at a good upmarket liquor store for a couple of bottles of wine - one does not come empty-handed when one is invited to dinner; even Molly knows that), Molly arrives at the door of whatever building Nathan told her to turn up at and searches for a doorbell. She'll knock if she doesn't find one, though it'll take a minute, and there'll be a little bit of hesitation. Given her own front door, her aversion to knocking probably makes sense.

Either way, it's not her who's getting shocked at this point; no, that would possibly be Nathan, at least in the metaphorical sense, when he opens the door. Molly, see, is wearing a dress.

Okay, it's not a particularly fancy dress. Simple deep red velvet thing with a square neckline and a loose-ish knee-length skirt. But given that Nathan's seen her in a good top maybe twice and in anything but jeans or shorts ... well, possibly never if he didn't turn up at her Halloween party, it's possible he didn't know she owned a dress. At least there are no heels, even if she has discarded her duffel coat in favour of her black leather jacket. Once Nathan comes to the door, she holds up her clinking bag from the liquor store and says, "Hi. I didn't know whether red or white so I brought both may I please come in it is freezing out here..."

[Nathan Spriggs] The area itself is a well known factory/warehouse district in the upper class area of Chicago, if that really meant anything these days. Still, asides from the graffiti covering distinct buildings all over the neighborhood, it's a nice place. The warehouse itself is... well... nice, for a warehouse, and well-taken care of. An incredibly spacious thing too, there have been minor modifications to the inside but otherwise it's a large open space, with his bed in clear sight at a corner, a couch with a TV a few feet in front and row after row of what made up a rather enormous library that'd be the envy of any bibliophile. Especially given how old most of the books seemed if one looked around carefully.

The modifications themselves are a kitchen built into the corner nearest of the entrance, and a large wooden dinner table with eight matching chairs close by it. That and the only segments of wall added to the place apparently, one could hazard a guess that it was a bathroom.

Still, it was a plain place, no real 'homey' feel, maybe he just hadn't had the time to put into it.

Opening the door just as Molly closes the distance to it, and allowing her to avoid the potential risks of knocking, Nathan leans against the door-frame for a moment as he gives Molly an appraising look with a raised eyebrow, though it quickly transforms to a wry grin as he takes a step back and bows slightly while gesturing inside.

"I invite you into my humble abode, my proverbial Batcave." He says, before taking the bag out of her hand if she lets him and moving to place it on a counter in his makeshift kitchen. "I like the dress, it's a very... new look for you." Nathan himself is wearing a business-casual sort of look tonight, unbuttoned dark gray suit with electric green shirt and no tie, as well as white-on-gray checkered sneakers. Now he was feeling underdressed for once.

[Molly Quincannon] She lets him take the bag and gives a delighted chuckle at the 'proverbial Batcave' comment, then looks around the place, turning in a slow circle for a general overview before going to any detailed examination of the abode. She stops at the comment about her dress, though, and spins to face him with a slightly sheepish smile and a blush. "Thanks. Didn't really think it through, though, maybe, given the temperature, but at least with the miracle of motor vehicle transportation, I wasn't out in the freezy for long. Still, assuming 'new look for you' isn't totally damning with faint praise, and given who I'm getting it from and that it came with a 'nice', then ... well, no, totally worth it." For all the slight sheepishness (which probably has more to do with her wearing a shortish dress in six-below weather than anything else), she at least seems more confident about the whole 'flirting' thing. I like your shirt; the colour suits you. Speaking of suits, though, do you wear those at home normally, or should I be flattered? And the shoes are awesome, by the way."

Then, a word or two about the apartment. "This place is incredibly you ... at least inside. Oh-em-gee, you really do own a television! That's just awesome. And the books ... wow. How long have you been amassing this hoard?"

[Nathan Spriggs] He watches her circle for a moment, with an amused expression about him, until she blushes and makes a statement on the hazards of Chicago weather with a dress, to which he chuckles before, "It was, it was. It looks good on you, or maybe my mind's just trying to recover from the surprise. Still, you are a brave one, my child. To weather this... weather in such clothing, or lack thereof."

Shooting her a grin with that, he turns his head ever so slightly towards the collection of books that took up most of his quaint warehouse. "About all of my Awakened life." His response, in between a waving gesture as if to say it's unimportant. Five second later, he's setting up two plates and glasses on the table which, surprisingly, seems to carry Christmas-time decorations for a cover. "So, still cold or are you adjusting to the temperature in here? Nothing beats Corporate-grade climate control, I tell ya."

[Molly Quincannon] That gets a giggle, on so, so many levels. She does, at least, explain a few. "Your child, huh? Facetiousness yay! I figure facetiousness, anyway. Unless you're actually a really well-preserved eighty-five. This is not entirely unheard of, y'know. Are you a really well-preserved eighty-five? As to lack of clothing ... well, yeah, but hey, at least it's velvet. And has sleeves. I figured the other red one or the one Isabel made me buy would be overkill and the Dalek dress, while nifty, didn't suit the occasion." She blinks. "When did I become someone who owned multiple dresses?"

Then she shakes her head and looks over the books again before turning her attention to the table. "Well, kudos on the effort, then; dude, I didn't think there were that many books that predated certain advances in printing press technology. And yet you've ferreted out all these; how did you even know to look for them? I mean, did you seek out all of these in particular, or was it auctions and creepy little bookshops and--?"

The table decorations register and, while Molly is still obviously curious about the answers to the questions she's already got out, there is a minor bit of multitask when she lets out a delighted laugh and says, "You decorated! Cool! How was your Christmas, anyway? Oh, that reminds me!" She rummages through her laptop bag (because of course, there is always a laptop bag) and pulls out a couple of boxes. One's about the size of a shoebox; the other's more the size of a match box. "...It's Christmas, for you, right? Or was? Merry Christmas? Not Hanukkah or Yule or Kwanzaa or like that?"

[Molly Quincannon] And as to the temperature, as an afterthought, "Here's fine. I mean, compared to out there, the fridge would be fine. But thanks for the thought."

[Nathan Spriggs] With a quirk of the brows, he shoots a look at Molly that's clearly a hard attempt at keeping a straight face as he says, "I'm like the creepy uncle everyone wishes they didn't have." With those words, he turns back to the table after accepting the gifts, placing them neatly in a corner as he keeps setting up. Should've handled it earlier, but the need to do something else was too impelling to ignore. "To answer your questions, though... Nah, I usually wear the pants and a shirt but not the jacket at home, so feel special. Secondly, uh... Well, most of it was through contacts and such, trading favors and whatnot to get them tracked down. Lastly, assuming it wasn't rhetorical, I dunno when you became a dress person, but I don't think it's that bad. Always good to have variety, and if anything, it's probably so unexpected for anyone surveying you that you can use it as camouflage..."

Then a beat, as he grins and says, "Yep, Christmas. Israel's not won the war yet, so Hanukkah's definitely not on the list. The table's set, by the way. Feel free to take a seat as I finish cooking."

And he's back to the kitchen, mostly draining the water from what seems to be pasta and stirring something else.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly tends not to try to keep a straight face, particularly when someone's obviously going for a laugh. So the 'creepy uncle' bit gets a giggle before she says, "I'm hoping that's just fooling around and not selling yourself short. I'm ... also hoping it doesn't offend you that I don't think you're creepy. Just ... intriguingly cryptic. Or a total sweetheart. Depending on your mood and which way you're facing."

She clearly does 'feel special', about the jacket; it's less a blush than a brightening of the eyes and smile. The thing about the books is evidently conversation to be had when everyone's sitting, as all her questions on the subject will probably be long and involved and he's fiddling with things in the kitchen. She does, however, respond to the other two bits and pieces as she takes a seat where he's indicated. "I guess dresses could equal camouflage, or just to serve as a reminder that I'm actually female and not ... I dunno, Androgynous Geek-Mage. I mean, if I really wanted camouflage, I'd get that suit-thing Isabel tried to nudge me into buying. I swear, tone down the hair and wear a turtleneck to hide all the tats? I look like a freakin' em-eye-bee in that thing. And cool, about the Christmas. I'm pretty equal opportunity about the whole thing, though I use Yule as a designator most of the time. Or just 'happy holidays', if I'm not sure."

After that, she waits. She's full of questions, of course, and the temptation to peek over his shoulder at what he's cooking (or at the books on the shelves, or just around to see if he owns a DVD collection) is strong, but she can employ manners. Besides, if she leaves Nathan alone, the sooner he'll be done with the cooking bits and she'll have answers to the 'what's for dinner' question and an opportunity to nudge him about opening the presents. Though one question does occur that she can't quite stifle: "So how was the Asylum recon? I haven't had time to go in-depth with Atlas on it yet. The man's tricky as hell to get hold of when he gets an invention groove going and I think he forgets he has a phone now."

[Molly Quincannon] [[So we're cutting out that question about the Asylum recon because ... whoops, it hasn't happened yet.]]

[Nathan Spriggs] After a few minutes focusing on the cooking, during which he replies to some of Molly's words without so much as a glance back, "Heh, thanks. Now you have me interested in your MIB look, though. I dunno though I'm fairly certain that your choice of clothes don't really accentuate androgynousness so much as... I guess weird sense of fashion? Like, really weird? Then again, we claim to see a new Reality and manipulate the world. As far as I'm concerned, us Magi are all what can be considered legally insane."

Then, at last, he turns around and with a pot in hand, moves towards the table, placing it in the middle on top of a protective tile before bringing the next pan. When everything's on the table, he removes the lids one by one and says, "Enjoy, egg noodles with pretty basic meat sauce. Not the most amazing thing, but sod it. At least it's warm."

[Molly Quincannon] There's a thoughtful frown at that. "I could give you that if you were talking about my Matt-Smith-Doctor look, 'cos that's a little weird. And even then it's a tweed jacket, man's shirt and bow tie. If it was just 'weird', I'd have gone with the fez to cap it all off. As it is, I'm mostly in shapeless unisex tees and jeans. How's that not androgynous? Particularly with the hair?" She ruffles the short hair at the nape of her neck for emphasis. "Wow; either I really sucked at hiding my femininity or I've been so good at it that people haven't seen it for what it was. Huh. That's one to chew over."

She adds, after an appreciative sniff of the air, "As is the Pasta a la Spriggs, from the smell. Stop selling yourself short, already; it smells awesome. Besides, I'm easy to impress, food-wise." She did, after all, used to subsist on Hot Pockets and the occasional trip to Dennys at three in the morning. "If someone cooked it with a view to me eating it, I'm squeeful." Short pause for thought, and then, "Here's where I get stuck. Manners says that I should let you serve yourself first. But you might think the same thing and there might be confusion and reaching for utensils at the same time or waiting for the other one to dig in so I called it and you're serving yourself and then I'll serve myself, okay? And ... you're going to make me wait 'til after we've eaten to open your presents, aren't you." She's so desperately keen to know what he thinks of what she got him, it's quite clear, though she adds, "It's okay if you are? But you're going to have to distract me with something. Like ... I dunno; I have questions, but then I always have questions. So I should let you ask a few for a change."

[Nathan Spriggs] "Now I'm definitely gonna make you wait." He says with a smirk when she comments on the presents, as well as a small glance over to her face when she says it. Knowing she was desperate to know made him less rushed to move. Call it the sadistic side. Once she's set down the serving order, though, he shrugs and says, "Fine."

Before, of course, defying it and covering a scenario she had not: Him serving her first. It was a rather large serving of noodles, all in all, before proceeding to add in plenty of meat sauce. Whether she complains or not, he then uncorks the wine and pours her a glass before even getting around to his own servings. "Where I'm from, the cook eats last."

[Molly Quincannon] He's looking for a reaction, and so far be it from her to deny him one; when he tells her that he is definitely going to make her wait, she makes a face that can probably best be described as a 'Muppet face-scrunch'; wrinkled nose, narrowed eyes, pursed mouth ... though that last twists into a small, tight, purse-lipped smile best likened to a smirk as she shakes her head. "Oh, fine, fine, be that way. You still have to--"

distract me was quite obviously going to be the end of that sentence, but then there's an awful lot of noodles and sauce and wine being poured, which gets a blink. "See ... I thought of that? But I didn't want to volunteer you for the dishing-up and..." Face (or rather, forehead, as glasses do tend to get in the way), meet palm. "I'm going to stop babbling now, I swear. Well, at least not in that direction. So..." She reaches for a conversational topic, and finds one in perhaps the least likely place: "Jean-Luc Picard, huh? You've actually watched Tee-En-Gee?"

Yes, it was a random comment made months ago at a particularly fraught moment after an even more fraught two days. And?

[Nathan Spriggs] Getting comfortable in his seat and, post-first try at his noodles (yes, this was the first time he'd made them), Nathan looks up at Molly and chuckles as she facepalms. Giving her a wry smile as she says she'd stop babbling, "No, no. Go ahead. It's always interesting to hear what comes out of your mouth before sense kicks in enough to notice." The way he says it is mostly innocent and honest, certainly not meant as criticism or an insult. "But yeah, I watched it. Saw the original too. Contrary to popular beliefs, I didn't grow up in a library from the Medieval Era."

[Molly Quincannon] She blushes a bit and makes a noise best phonetically rendered as 'snerk'. "And that explains why people like having me around. It's like that Howard Stern pseudo-biopic: 'Average Howard Stern fan listens to the radio for an hour, twenty-seven minutes. When asked why, most common answer: 'I want to hear what he's going to say next'. Average Howard Stern hater listens to his show for three hours. When asked why, most common answer: '...I want to hear what he's going to say next'." She makes that 'snerk' noise again and shakes her head. "Brilliant."

Then she tries the noodles. "Mmm," is all she says at first. It's not an abrupt noise; it's more a savouring-it sort of noise. After she's actually swallowed the mouthful (at least she doesn't babble with her mouth full), she smiles at him. "You don't have a recipe for this, do you? 'Cos if you do, I'd love to have a look at it. This belongs on my 'must try and probably fail to do it justice' list at home."

The bit about Medieval libraries gets a laugh, thankfully just before she takes a sip of her wine. "Oh, I know that. I just didn't figure sci-fi was your bag, s'all. I figured you for ... I dunno, The Revenger's Tragedy or Gormenghast or Neverwhere or something, if you were going for fiction TV at all. Maybe Ultraviolet - miniseries, not movie. Just goes to show, I guess, that you never can tell. But I dunno; Tee-Oh-Ess left me a little cold. Liked the reboot, though - even if Skylar-from-Heroes dude is in no way equal to Leonard Nimoy in the Spock department. I keep picturing him as a brain-eating psychopath. But then, Pon Farr. Nobody ever thinks about that when they write Kirk/Spock slash, y'know. Not that I actively seek it out, but Rule Thirty-Four is just--" She realises that her mouth has run off on its own again, picks up her fork and, with a tacked-on ending of, "...So! Are any of the books on your shelves fiction?", she goes back to the pasta-eating.

[Nathan Spriggs] "Well, they're in a different stack, but yeah. A good few. Ender's Game for once, and the general series. Dune too, good books. I Am Legend, though that's less sci-fi... Enemy Mine, a classic..." He says, in between bites though he looks... strangely lost for a while, she'd actually managed to get him confused at some point. "Gotta say, though, I have no idea who Howard Stern is or everything else you said past Star Trek reboot mention."

That seemed to be the root of it...

[Molly Quincannon] "..............You haven't heard of Howard Stern?" That's apparently confusion-worthy in itself as far as Molly's concerned. "Radio guy. Known for being maybe the filthiest person on air. And yet ... NBC picked him up, 'cos of the ratings. Big, big ratings. Probably for the same reason George Carlin and Bill Hicks were so popular ... and still are, really; gods that walk the earth and crawl beneath rest their souls." She evidently means that, though she's also watching Nathan to see if he recognises the names Carlin and Hicks. The confusion about the rest gets waved away with a simple, "Right. Not much of a net-head. In ways, you're lucky." Because going into detail about the mating rituals of the Vulcan species is just too geeky for dinner conversation, even for her.

Then, to the books. "Good choices, all. I was a little disenchanted with the Dune series after awhile, but that's just me. I highly recommend the Dresden Files, by the way. I think you'd approve. Them, I can lend you. Though stay away from the TV series. It got cancelled for a reason. And not the network-fuckery that killed Firefly, either." She's still looking for signs that he recognises any of the names she's dropping, but she does add, "You're a man of hidden depths, though. These are things I would not have guessed, and it makes me squeeful. The fact that it's stuff I actually get? Bonus. Though I admit I mostly identify with the Bene Gesserit. Litany Against Fear, y'know? 'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.'" She grins a bit over her wine glass. "It's basically Point Two of the Code; just more long-winded."

[Nathan Spriggs] "Carlin and Hicks weren't just about being dirty though, I mean... sure, they were all that... but it was more than that. Carlin especially, man, he could go on and on and it'd be amazing. Ever seen his skit on phone conversations? I can totally relate." So yes, he does give her indication of recognizing the names, along with a chuckle and a smile as she mentions Dresden Files. "I'll take you up on that soon, then." \

With those words, he gives a wry look that's caught in between 'maybe uncomfortable' and 'oddly amused' when she mentions the Litany and the Code. There's a pause as he considers it before finally, a sigh and, "Man, I can't even recall how many times I broke the damn Code... It can get pretty hard to keep, especially the 'thou shalt not do bad shit' when there's a war going on."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly chuckles. "Oh, I know, but frankly, neither was Stern. All three were, at root, about breaking boundaries. It wasn't filth for filth's sake, y'know? Carlin said it best when he talked about those 'bad words' being just ... words, about it all being about context. Just Stern was never so eloquent or rantlicious about it. Instead, he just skipped straight to the doing, so to speak; pushing the boundaries of what people consider 'taboo'. Like Carlin encouraged an openness about the language in terms of profanity, and Hicks was big on getting people to question the government - I swear that man was at least a Consor or he should have been..." There's an idea there; it can be seen sparking in her eyes as mischief and challenge ... but she puts it aside and continues on the original thread. "...Stern just pushed the boundaries about what's quote-unquote 'appropriate' to talk about openly when it comes to sex. I was only talking about it from the average noob pee-oh-vee."

The bit about the Code ... well. She understands; it's clear. "I'd ... never even conceivably broken the Code until I hit Chicago, y'know. But I did too. It gave me trouble for awhile but in the end, it all comes down to your own boundaries as to what 'bad shit' means. Yes, every coin taken turns the rest to dross, whatever, but if that coin's dross anyway ... eh, fuck it, there's always second chances. Hence the whole lightning-struck-tree-may-yet-bear-fruit thing. But that's a little far along a road that's not yours, so maybe we'll save it for a less social, more philosophical setting, hmm?"

So the conversation goes throughout the rest of the meal (which she praises heartily, incidentally); things that he might want to borrow, whether there's anything he of his that he thinks she might want to borrow, various acts of ramblage on Molly's part ("Seriously, the Muppet Movie follows the entire Hero's Journey archetype and anyone who says that the Muppets is just a kids' thing and not in any way art is talking out their proverbial ass because it's basically Frodo's Journey with puppets and-- Anyway!") ... that sort of thing. Then, before he can protest about it, she yoinks his cleared plate and hers for at least rinsing as she says, "You cooked, I'll at least clear a bit. And you said there could be your present-unwrapping and I've been very good."

[Nathan Spriggs] With a nod and no complaints, Nathan followed the conversation through more or less as best he could without having a basis on Howard Stern except her words. It was hard to judge. To her question, he'd reply as honestly as possible depending on how personal. But mostly the time passed by quickly and enjoyably. Until as she takes his plate, he grins and says, "Deal." Before making a grab for the presents, starting with the matchbox sized one.

Size wasn't (always) power. Just most of the time.

[Molly Quincannon] The match box-sized parcel (wrapped in what looks like graph paper with equations written on it, though with the smooth feel of wrapping paper) contains a USB drive rather like the ones Nathan liberated from a certain hidden compartment in Natyana's laptop, lo these many months ago. It's not labelled, but it sings of her resonance. There's also a slip of paper inside, and it simply reads, "IOU".

She explains, quietly, once he's given it a look-over. "That's my notes on Forces from when I was an apprentice. The Skank Fetish method, so to speak; when he was trying to teach someone whose paradigm didn't quite mesh with his own. The tech notes I added later are there too, in case you were curious, but that's not the core of it. The IOU's for any meatspace lessons you might need or want." She knows he has a laptop and can use a USB drive; Nat told her so.

[Nathan Spriggs] His grin grows wider and wider as Molly elaborates on the gift, he'd looked at it strangely for a while before then. Curious and confused, originally. Now though, he pocketed it for the time being and made a mental note to check it out ASAP. Then the next gift, he starts unwrapping it slowly. "Thanks. I'll be getting you gifts in on the 4th, since I've totally passed the stage of Christmas, I'll use the other holiday as an excuse." Assuming she knew about what the 4th stood for, anyway.

[Molly Quincannon] Whether she does or doesn't know what the 4th stands for (and she doesn't, to judge by the flicker of confusion tempered by an obvious, near-audible decision to JFGI when I get home), she looks rather bashful and says, "Thanks, but you know you don't have to, right?"

Inside the shoebox-sized parcel (shambling zombies in Santa hats, some carrying ribbon-wrapped brains, on a grey background) is ... well, it's a pistol, certainly, but it's not the usual kind. It is, in fact, a paintball pistol, with a couple of spare magazines and a cleaning kit. "There's another thing that's taking a bit of time to track down, but that ... well, I figured that given some of the shit we get into on a regular basis, it might be nice to have something that looks non-lethal to carry around in situations where maybe guns would be bad. I figured with what you've shown you can do with Matter - and probably Prime, if you've got to a point where you can Prime-charge stuff - just about anything that fires anything can be lethal if you need it to be."

[Nathan Spriggs] To the... well, gun, Nathan simply stares at for a moment. A blink or two later, Molly's words register, and he clearly sees it for what it was, a paintball gun. It'd taken him a moment since he wasn't well versed in them and the magazines threw him off. A smirk slides across his face as he nods, "I know I don't have to. I just want to. Thanks for these gifts, though between you and me, yeah just about anything can turn into a very lethal weapon if I put my mind to it... Though I'll probably be using this baby with tranq gas or something, I dunno. Gives me something to research."

With those words, he finally gets up from the table and stretches his sore limbs for a moment, before setting down the box on the table and turning to Molly with a smile. "So, how was your Christmas all in all? I realize I haven't asked."

[Molly Quincannon] She smiles, pleased and proud and a little bashful: an I did good yay! sort of smile. "Thank you, then. In advance. As I'm sure whatever will end up with me bouncing up and down and going 'squee' and I'm not sure that parses in your lexicon as 'thank you'. It does in mine, though. Anyway, and you're also welcome. Look at it as an excuse to be inventive. There's an instruction booklet in there, and if you need help with research, let me know. You can find a lot of niftiness online, if you know where to look." She frowns a little, thoughtful. "Huh. Maybe for your birthday I'll teach you how to really work a computer. Or just because it's a useful thing to know ... if you can avoid Rule Thirty-Four." She gives him a mischievous grin at that. Maybe she'll explain it someday.

"Quiet, surprisingly," is the response to the last. "Mainly me and Ellie watching Christmas shmaltz on DVD and roasting a duck. It came out well, and we had a good time. I think my holiday's been coming in increments, though. Y'know, it's like all the stuff that makes the holidays worth it - the feasting and good cheer and spending time with people I care about - all spaced out so I get to enjoy it longer - lunch at Israel's during Hanukkah, big dinner deal with Ellie..." She smiles a bit and then gives an eloquent little gesture that encompasses the table and its Christmas decorations, and Nathan himself. "...This."

Yes, she just said she cared about him. And she even managed to look him in the eye while she did it. But she doesn't let that moment hang long; she's got some idea that Nathan might want processing time or something. Instead, she asks, "What about yours?"

[Nathan Spriggs] Maybe it's because she managed to say it straight, but Nathan watches Molly for a moment, considering for a moment before a slow smile spreads across his face. "Thank you," are his words in response to being listed amongst them, it might not be all she expected but it's honest and appreciative at least. Then, without skipping a beat, "My Christmas was... decent enough. The highlight was killing a dragon, honestly." Why yes, he says it with a straight face and complete honesty.

A goddamn dragon. Mythological creatures, things unseen in thousands of years. Solomon, Ashley and himself had taken one down. He'd given the finishing shot, actually. A small pride exists in that. "If you want, I can tell you the whole account? Or would you rather watch TV or something? Maybe both?" A raise of his brow in a questioning look as he gestures towards the couch and TV. From there, whatever they decide, he'll give her the unabridged account of mythological beast slaying. As well as answer any questions she might have on it.