"Trust me, you will be very comfortable," Nat promised, leading the way into the house and up the spiral stairs to the third level. She drew them into what was obviously the master bedroom, and opened up a pair of chests, pulling out clothing for the pair of them. "I will go back downstairs," she said. "Take your time."
"So long as I don't have to wear women's panties," Dev muttered to himself, once Nat stepped out of the room. There was actually no reason for him to shed his underwear, as no one would see that, but modern clothing would earn them some stares in Avalon.
Amaris laughed at Dev's comment, already inspecting the pieces laid out for her. "Pretty sure Rhys would prefer if it you kept your panties on, baby," she pointed out cheerfully.
"Pretty sure you're the only one who'd be happy to get them off," he remarked, tossing her a wink. "What have we got to choose from?" he asked, picking up a pair of what appeared to be crudely-made trousers, at least compared to modern clothing. "I hope these aren't made of wool," he complained, looking them over.
"Looks like linen to me," she offered, holding up a voluminous amount of thin ivory linen of her own. "I think this goes under the dress. Looks like I've got less to put on than you."
He had to agree. It was far too warm out for wool, even here, this time of year. "I wonder if they're able to grow cotton," he said, though the fact that the pants were made of linen sort of answered that question. The climate didn't seem the type given to the growing of cotton. "It's medieval, isn't it?" he asked, trying to pinpoint the time period. It was like this place was locked in time and had never progressed past the medieval age.
"It looks like it," Amaris agreed, unbuttoning her shirt. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but her jeans were incredibly hot under the clear summer sky here. "Wasn't the whole Camelot thing between the Romans and the Normans? The Dark Ages or something?"
"Hell if I know," Dev replied, not quite up on that period of history. "I think there's been some debate about it," he remarked as he climbed out of his jeans and swapped them for the pair of linen trousers, which he had to admit which much lighter and more comfortable than his jeans.
"Well, there's debate about everything," she said with a shrug, tossing her jeans onto the bed with her shirt. "Nothing's certain when it comes to history and mythology, after all." After a little flailing, she managed to get the thin chemise over her head, shaking the fabric to find the holes for her arms.
He couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight of her trying to get into the change of clothing. "Need a little help there?" he asked, as he shed his jacket, along with everything he'd had stuffed in his pockets.
She emerged from the voluminous folds a little disheveled but grinning with victory. "I made it!" Shaking her hair out from the neckline, she frowned at the sleeves. "How do they do anything with sleeves this big getting in the way all the time?"
"You're a guest here, Maris. You don't have to do anything," he pointed out, as he tugged his shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the bed with the rest of his discarded clothing. The tunic he pulled on was a little tighter than it would have been on Rhys, but, like the pants, it was comfortable enough. "I could get used to this," he said with a grin, as he eyed the woman before him.
She snorted with laughter. "We'll both be bored out of our minds by the end of a week," she predicted, though neither of them could stay that long. Pulling on the overdress, she frowned down at the lacing at the front, trying to work out how it did up. "Any clues here, Mr. Detective?"
"Special Agent, actually," he corrected her as he moved forward to help her with those laces. "I'm no expert, but I assume it goes something like this," he said, as he carefully tugged at the laces and tied them off at the top.
"Suddenly I'm regretting putting it on," she murmured impishly, as the laces tugged gently on her chest. The mischief faded as she looked up at him, her eyes clear and hopeful. "You love me, don't you?"
"Don't be silly. It's lovely, and you're lovely in it. Just pretend you're at a Ren Faire," he scolded gently at her presumed dislike of the dress. Finished with the lacing, he looked up to meet her eyes, more than a little surprised at her question, which was difficult to answer. "Would it surprise you to hear that I've been admiring you from afar for months?" he asked, not quite answering her question just yet.
"A little," she admitted. "You never said two words together to me until the attack." She noted that he hadn't answered her question, knowing she was pushing her luck just by asking so soon. Just because she knew her heart didn't give her the right to rush his.
"I was undercover. I was supposed to be watching you, not asking you on a date," he reminded her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, his fingers wandering back through her hair. He knew if they took too long in here, Rhys and Nat would either guess what they were doing or come looking for them, and this wasn't their bed or even their home. "I might not be there just yet, but I think I'm well on my way," he admitted, leaning in to kiss her lips.
That was enough for her, giving him a smile to kiss as she hugged her arms about his waist for a long moment. "I guess you should meet my mom, then," she murmured mischievously, drawing back to claim his hand and pull him back toward the door and the stairs down to the bottom of the tower house.
"And I guess you should meet my aunt," he countered, smiling as she led him back the way they'd come. He hesitated a moment to look back at their possessions piled up on Rhys and Nat's bed. It didn't seem right to leave them there, but Nat hadn't seemed to mind.
"That sounds like we have something of a road trip to plan," Amaris said with a smile. Nat hadn't said anything about putting their clothing anywhere, but she was with Dev on feeling uncomfortable about just leaving it on the bed. "Just a sec." She moved back into the room, folding the discarded clothing neatly into a pile that she then lifted up.
"Not as far as you might think," Dev said, the hint of a smirk on his face. He hadn't yet told her much about his aunt or where he'd grown up. "I assume your pack lives nearby," he said, which he also assumed included her mother.
"Yeah, they live in Red Bank," she told him. "Close enough to the sea that they can dump the pups into the Atlantic if they get up to too much mischief. A dose of cold water does wonders for childish high spirits in teens."