Jean-Sal preferred the way Oliver had dressed last night when they met. Now that he wore his fine clothes, he felt strange dancing with him. He could see some people staring at them and remembered what the man had told him last night. People here knew his name. So be it. If they wanted to stare, Jean-Sal didn't care. He was happy to see Oliver and continued to dance with him until the man seemed to be unable to take much more. They collapsed on a nearby bench together and Jean-Sal immediately took Oliver's hands into his own. "You forgot your gift," he spoke now, referring to his offer last night. The man had been in such a hurry to get back home, he had forgotten to take something with him. "Here."

From within one of his trench coat's pockets he pulled out a flat stone that had the skeleton of some sort of lizard imprinted in it. A fossil he had found while exploring the ruins of a once grand city. He had noticed how Oliver looked at it when he first entered Jean-Sal's tent, so brought it with him to give it to his new friend. "It's a fossil. I found it while exploring some ruins of a city once called London." He flashed a grin, knowing that Oliver would be insanely interested in these ruins. He also wanted to impress the man with his knowledge of history. "We passed through a while ago on our travels. There was a great dried up river, which I believe was called the Thames. Must have been a large one at one time."

If there was something Jean-Sal loved more than dancing and singing and playing his fiddle, it was telling stories. He was illiterate, unfortunately, so like the other gypsies, he had to tell his stories instead of writing them down. He didn't mind though. It was a much more romanticised way of someone learning about his travels, especially someone he wanted to bed again.

In the marketplace even the most refined lost themselves a little. They loosened their ties, they untucked their jackets, and spoke a little loosely. Perhaps they still felt that air of superiority over the gypsies, but Oliver melted into it all as if he had been born among it, letting himself be led in dance around the fountain for what felt like hours, when it was probably no more than ten or twenty minutes. Jean-Sal seemed to let him forget the time instead of feeling every second tick away as if it were forcibly slowed. Sitting just near Jean-Sal's setup booth, Oliver studied him curiously when Jean referred to the gift, and knitted his brow when it was given.

The fossil. He remembered it more than the rest, the uncut gems or other stones, those pressed with leaves or ferns, or the fossilized amber. He loved the simple but beautifully kept skeleton. "I can't believe you've visited London's ruins." Oliver said after a moment, running his fingers over the preserved form. "I only ever see these fossils in museums. That, and animals that seem to be extinct. Are they extinct, still?" He didn't know. No one really knew except the gypsies, and no one thought to ask specifically. It was subject to change. "I always wanted to see it all. Like the gypsies." He smiled a little, wrapping his ribbon around his hand and turning the stone in his hands. "I only ever see pictures of what people think all the major cities from the past look like and it seems so... ridiculous. I want to see them all with my own eyes for once, but..." He grimaced at the thought of even bringing it up to his parents.

"Jean-Sal, when do you leave...?" He didn't want to know the answer. Being around this gypsy was something unique for Oliver, and not just a way to rebel against his lifestyle or his parents' wishes. He felt a uniqueness around this man that he wanted to keep for a long time, but gypsies, true to their names, never stayed in one place for too long.

"We usually stay for a week, though if the weather is bad it could be longer," Jean-Sal replied, leaning back now and watching the dancers. Even some of the richer looking folk had joined in, as though they didn't have a care in the world. He wished life could be like this always, that his kind could be welcome in the cities whenever they wanted, not just on market days. Then they could all party and be happy, and no problems would occur because everyone wouldn't care when they did. They would all be too busy dancing.

"We've been many places. The oceans aren't like what they used to be. Some are so shallow you can walk across from island to island. You know, this is only the second time my tribe has visited Vespar. Last time we were here I would have been 8 years old. I remember playing in this fountain with a few other children. I always wondered why people threw their coins into it. I still do, actually." If he had money, he wouldn't throw it away for something that would never happen.

"But I have been to London and Paris and all the other old cities from yore. We've seen jungles and forests with trees so old they are bigger than anything you'd ever imagine, trees that were around when our ancestors destroyed the Earth. And I can tell you that creatures still exist out there. Wolves and bears and tigers and lions, as well as deer and moose and buffalo... We see them on our journeys. If you leave them be, they leave you be. The birds are beautiful. You can see them flying through the trees and hear their singing. Even though they ae still around, there are many animals that no longer exist. Elephants and whales, and all the rest... I've seen an elephants skull. They must have been huge animals," Jean-Sal paused for breath, realising he had been talking too much. He smiled at Oliver. "Why don't you come with us?"

Oliver was immediately entranced by what he could only, barely imagine. His hand stroked the rough edge of the stone on his lap and he leaned forward as if a moment's distraction would force him to miss something incredibly important. The oceans he'd read about, and heard about. Only in speculation, though, and people thought they were still their usual height all over the world. It must have been otherwise. And the animals, he knew what they looked like, but longed to actually see them. To actually hear their calls. The way Jean-Sal's beautiful voice brought it all to life made him want to run out of the dome and find the source of these creations, these things, animals, and trees.

He blinked and came back to reality when Jean asked Oliver to accompany them. He'd thought about it, of course, jumping onto the town or city or caravan that was about to raise from the earth and stat off again, but could never bring himself to do so. It had all been a pipe dream. "I... I..." He paused, brushing his hand through his hair as he did when he was deep in thought. "I mean, I'd love to. You have no idea how much I'd love to. But... If I just vanished... Or if I even thought about telling my parents I'm leaving the dome and possibly never returning... It'd be hell to pay. I'd have so much to answer to. I couldn't just run off, or the city would be in an uproar. And warning them is out of the question, they'll... think I'm crazy."

He sighed, leaning forward, and from the pack hanging from his belt Oliver pulled his journal. He'd written a little in it while he was sitting alongside the widower, but not much, as people looked over his shoulder. "I always thought about going... I never thought I'd actually have the chance." He looked at Jean-Sal, losing himself in the gypsy's eyes.

Jean-Sal smiled as he listened to Oliver. It seemed like all the man wanted - and needed - in his life was adventure, and somebody to share it with. He understood how Oliver felt about just running away, and of course the first people to be suspected as soon as someone prominent went missing would be the gypsies. But he still wished that the man would simply tell his parents he was running away and joined him for his travels.

Why did he wish this? He hadn't felt this way about someone before. Was he in love with Oliver? He did find the man very attractive in every way. Oliver Stone was perfect, except one thing. He wasn't a gypsy.

"You know, I've never wanted to share my life with any one else before until I met you," he commented, brushing Oliver's hair out of his eyes so he could see into them easier. "You are really attractive. I mean it."

Oliver closed his eyes momentarily, enjoying the feeling of Jean-Sal's fingers brushing his hair back. "I... thank you. I can honestly say the same for you. Not to say I'm basing your appearance on the older men I have to act as if I'm interested in, of course... I know what I actually like, even if I have to act like a fool." He looked down, suddenly feeling as if he were being scrutinized, and opened his journal. "I've... been writing about my evening last night." He smiled. "I'd intended to write about everything I saw but I think I only wrote about you." He reviewed it all, sweeping his eyes across what he had written while he wasn't being studied by his parents or their friends.

"Jean-Sal's name is utterly beautiful. I can't stop going over it in my mind, speaking it aloud when I'm alone. While I went to the gypsy camp to investigate the amazing parties I hear they throw, I was ambushed by an angel of a man and must admit that missing the music and dancing after that was no big deal at all. I'll be painting him as soon as I'm able."

He blushed a little, closing the book and locking it again. "Aha... Ah, well, right." He smiled a little, looking back up to Jean-Sal. "You're absolutely gorgeous, and... I worry that when you have to go... It'll be too different." He wanted to get to know Jean more. Wanted to know all his songs, all his music, all his lore, the stories they told, where they had been, and he wanted to know more about Jean himself. But he doubted there were enough hours in the day, or enough days in his life.

Jean-Sal glanced at the journal Oliver had opened and smiled at how embarrassed the man had acted. Like a boy who had just had his first kiss. It was adorable. He watched Oliver lock the book away and laughed. "It's OK, I didn't read anything," he reassured him, deciding to leave out the fact that he was illiterate. He didn't want Oliver to think any less of him, seeing he was freely admitting his bewitchment.

"Don't worry about that. We have days before that has to happen. I never worry about the future, I just dance instead," he chuckled and got to his feet, pulling out his beloved fiddle and playing a happy tune for Oliver. He wanted the man to dance, and soon there were children around them, dancing to Jean-Sal's music. He laughed and danced with them, stopping briefly to pull Oliver to his feet. A couple of young girls took his hands and spun with him, laughing and having fun. Jean-Sal couldn't stop smiling. It was a perfect picture. It was a shame it was cut so short.

"Oliver?!'' an older woman's voice cried out, interrupting Jean-Sal's music. He stopped and watched as an elderly, but beautiful woman approached them, looking slightly mad. "What on Earth are you doing?" By her looks, Jean-Sal guessed this was a relative of Oliver's. He grinned and put his fiddle down, bowing low and taking her hand.

"Oh, excuse me M'lady, I was merely cheering Oliver up. He had a rough day, a bit under the weather," he explained, kissing her gently on her ringed hand. She seemed taken aback slightly and glanced from Jean-Sal to Oliver, as though struggling for something to say. Jean-Sal grinned and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her into a dance around the fountain. The girls followed them, laughing and giggling as the woman who at first looked mortified at being handled in such a way, started to shriek with mirth.

Jean-Sal let her go once they had done a few laps, bowing to her again and snatching up his fiddle, playing a tune and skipping around her and Oliver as she tried to regain her composure.

He could never expect uniformity around the gypsies, and when the young girls swept him up and Jean-Sal played a bright, happy tune, he melted into the whole scene despite his high-class clothing and rightly-poised hair, feeling as if he really belonged with these people. He loved their random decisions, the lovingly-made food and clothing, the magic that seemed to be all over the place, simmering under the music and song. He really did want to run away with Jean-Sal and everyone else, and see the world and how it was growing. He didn't want to leave Jean-Sal, either, such a carefree type with a beautiful singing voice. Maybe Oliver should live more in the present, as Jean did, instead of worrying about the future.

He gasped when a startled voice called his name, and broke away, turning his gaze to Jean and admiring his reaction. Such a people-person, this gypsy. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but couldn't think of anything to say. It was almost a relief when Jean took her into a twirling dance around the fountain, and put a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing at her shocked expression, pressing his rough, stony gift to his chest so it wasn't lost in some way. When Jean let her go, Sae brushed her loosened hair back and straightened her dress, breathing quickly. "Ah...! Oh, Oliver... Could we speak privately for a moment?" She glanced at Jean, nodding once and dragging her nephew away. "Oliver, is this the young man you bring up to your room?"

"Auntie, I do not bring anyone to my room!" Oliver sighed, exasperated. "Please..."

"Okay, okay, fine..." She glanced over her shoulder as Jean played his fiddle, and looked back at her nephew. "How long have you known this young man, then?"

"Since... yesterday." Oliver sighed. "I don't bring people to my room, but... if I could, I'm sure I'd bring him." He smiled a little, losing himself in thought. No doubt he would bring Jean-Sal to his room, sneak him in for a while and enjoy the fact that he wasn't alone for a while. It was the first time he felt he'd actually do so---actually risk being found by his parents or one of the staff.

"Yesterday... do you go out at night?"

Oliver didn't respond. He looked up, then down, and Sae gasped. "Oliver! You go out at night against your parents' wishes!?"

"I go out because they... they lock me up! What else can I do!? I take food from dinner and dress like the low class citizens and pass it out to them because they need it. I've made friends there, and I've made friends with the gypsies, and... one..." He glanced back at Jean-Sal. "I have to get out sometimes... I do... I can't stand the people you and my parents choose for me, you never ask if I'm okay with it, or what I think."

Sae bit her lip. "I... suppose you're right. But what do I tell your mother and father?"

"Nothing! Please... I'll tell them eventually... I just need the right time. I need... time."

Oliver's aunt sighed, but nodded. It let Oliver breathe a little easier as she said her goodbye, mentioning that she would give his parents an excuse if he were late coming home. Oliver returned to Jean-Sal, smiling automatically.

Jean-Sal played while Oliver and his aunt talked privately, until the woman walked away and Oliver rejoined his side. "I guess you can stay for a bit longer?" he asked the man, putting away his fiddle and watching the children run away to another man playing the accordion. "We can get something to eat."

He led Oliver over to one of the food stalls, helping himself to hedgehog pie - a delicacy of the gypsies - and a sweet apple pie. He didn't have to pay as the money they earned from their wares belonged to everyone. Oliver got a free meal as well and Jean-Sal moved to a table to sit at, basically dancing as he moved. He couldn't sit still, never. Even when he walked he had a slight skip to his stride. If there wasn't any music to listen to, he would dance to the beat of his heart, or to that of mother nature.

He dug into the hedgehog pie, enjoying the gamy meat that the small rodent brought to the dish. He watched Oliver eye it nervously and try a bit of it, although reluctantly. "You know what hedgehogs are, right? Small little spiky things that eat worms? We roll them up in mud and then tinfoil and cook them in a fire until their spines fall off." Hunting for the creatures was fun as well, and he knew how to lure them out of the bushes with warm milk from one of the cows in their cattle herd. "I can teach you how to catch them one night, if you like. I don't think there would be many, if any, in the city, but there are some in the forest just outside."

Oliver was glad to try new things, especially whatever the gypsies made. There was little doubt that whatever the gypsies made were unique and different, and nothing he would have been able to try before. He'd always avoided the square because he never knew when the gypsies would be selling their wares, and his parents would always arrange parties or get-togethers around these times. He accepted what Jean got from the stall and followed him to sit nearby, smiling at how light on his feet the man was.

Then he turned his attention to the unique gypsy food. He'd never seen a hedgehog in person, and they certainly didn't exist within the city walls. He'd seen pictures, though, and thought they were rather cute. Perhaps a good pet, but the largest pet he had ever seen barely came up to a grown man's knee. He didn't think twice about having no utensils---this seemed to be something to be eaten by one's hands, and he did so, pulling the meat apart and nibbling it curiously. It had a curious, odd taste, different than any meat he had tried previously. Everything he ate tended to come from meticulously kept farms and gardens just outside the dome, but this was wild, entirely natural---he could almost taste the earth it had burrowed in before its capture and sacrifice.

"Wow..." He spoke quietly, glancing up to Jean-Sal. "It's really good---so different. I mean, not for you, but I've never had the chance to try something like this." He smiled a little, hoping to write this experience down when he returned home, after he broke away from Jean-Sal, reluctant though that might be. "I'd love to try catching one...! I mean, I never actually went in the forest... I'd love to try... I mean, just to see how it's like in there, how different it looks... I'm sure I could soon... tomorrow night, even." Tonight was out of the question. His aunt would humor him, but he worried about how far he could push. And tonight he wanted to write everything about Jean-Sal, every look that crossed his face, every shade his hair took and every different tone his eyes brought out depending on the light they were exposed to. And he wanted to write about the experience this marketplace gave him. And he wanted to paint.

Jean-Sal grinned at Oliver's reaction, glad he liked the taste. They hadn't sold many hedgehog pies, mainly because the Vesparians had no idea what a hedgehog even was. Sometimes when they went to other cities, they pretended that a hedgehog was a small pig, due to its name sounding like one. He chuckled at the thought, but stopped when Oliver looked at him with curiosity.

He finished his own pie and moved on to dessert, a sweet apple pie that had some whipped cream on top. He licked the cream off the top of the pie, purposely looking Oliver in the eyes as he did it. Perhaps he could convince the man to let him sleep with him again. But where would be a good place in this sprawling city? Jean-Sal was sort of interested in how the city folk lived, how Oliver lived. "While I am allowed in your city without being arrested, maybe you can show me around. I'd love to learn a bit more about how you live, even if you think it is boring compared to me."

For a moment Oliver wasn't aware that his mouth was hanging open, until Jean broke eye contact with him slightly and he shook his head. Blinking, Oliver almost didn't mind going home later on, if only to paint those eyes, among other things. His parents wouldn't know where he got the inspiration, but Sae most definitely would. Knowing her, she wouldn't say a word, though. It was she---and his mother---that wanted him to get into art and painting, and his father that wanted him to learn how to use blades and guns, all of which he was very good at.

He pursed his lips, thinking about the places he could show Jean-Sal. "Ah... I don't mind." He said, sitting upright a little more. "I have a few favorite places, actually, even if it's inside the dome. If you don't mind heights, I mean..." He shrugged. There were plenty of places down low he didn't mind showing off just as much as the highest areas.

Jean-Sal laughed at Oliver's reaction. Was it so strange that he wanted to see more of the city? He was interested in how the people lived, trapped underneath a dome. "I don't mind heights at all,'' he replied. He had few fears in life, and heights was not one of them. He glanced up at the sky, which was hiding behind man-made clouds and the ceiling of the dome. It was getting dark and soon the gypsies would be returning to their camp.

He stood up and took Oliver's hand, like a gentleman would to a lady getting out of a carriage. "Well then, M'lord, please show me around your home," he said, with a bow and a grin, pulling Oliver closer to him and kissing him on his lips, spinning around with him as he did so.

He loved the way Jean-Sal acted so naturally, and so spontaneously. He clung to Jean, loving the randomness this gypsy acted with, and only reluctantly broke free. "I'd be happy to." He said, grasping Jean-Sal's hand and drawing him along. Under his other arm the fossil was tucked protectively. "No one will bother you while you're with me, even if you're here past the gypsy's curfew." At an even ten at night, the gypsies would leave the city and anyone still in the dome was arrested. Oliver didn't think it was fair, but he was never necessarily listened to.

Away from the square, Oliver led Jean-Sal along the slow incline that led into the upper districts. He walked close to Jean-Sal, enjoying the way he could be so near someone and not have it seen as inappropriate by the other person. It was wonderful, and Oliver didn't want it to end. "There's the city hall up at the top." Oliver said, pointing. "And it doubles as a church. My favorite place is up there in the bell tower, because the bell doesn't work anymore. It's quiet because you're above the noise, and I guess the view is nice in its own way." He shrugged. The view was of the entire city underneath the dome, and the tower actually extended above the generated clouds, so the dome's clear view of the night sky was visible. He was sure Jean would love it.

Jean-Sal walked alongside Oliver with his usual skip in his walk, even when the music of the square faded from being heard. He noticed how close the man was walking next to him and he grinned, grabbing onto Oliver's hand as they walked up the basically empty streets. Jean-Sal guessed most of the Vesparians were either at the markets, or at dinner. They only passed a few poor-looking people, who watched them with interest but didn't say anything. Jean-Sal wondered if they knew Oliver, if the man was that famous in the city.

"So what do your parents do? I mean, people seem to know you and you are rich so... Well, how is that?" He didn't want to sound like he wanted money or expected Oliver to tell him everything about business. Jean-Sal didn't really care, he just wanted to know more about Oliver. The nobleman who acted like a gypsy. He grinned at the thought, twirling as they rounded a corner and made their way towards the large building.

Jean-Sal had never been to a church before. He saw no point in religion, and going to a big building to talk to a man that may not even be real. All he needed was love of nature and trust in himself, that was his religion. "So who do Vesparians worship? Persis worship God and Spritzees worship Allah."

Those they passed weren't quite as well put together as the usual nobles that were up this high. These were the street cleaners, the trash collectors, the washers. the ones that were employed by the nobles to do what they didn't want to do. Some lived with the families, others returned to the lower districts when evening came. These recognized Oliver, a young family with a little girl whom he often brought food when they didn't have enough money to buy their own for a few days. They smiled, and the little girl waved, and Oliver smiled back before they turned the corner. He laughed at Jean-Sal's antics, loving the randomness.

"Well, we basically own a lot of the land that's farmed outside the dome... and my father owns twenty three businesses up here in the upper districts. So we have a pretty strong foothold..." He grimaced and looked down as he walked, shaking the thought away. He didn't want to talk about that. When they were in front of the city hall and church, Oliver shrugged. "The people here worship a combination of God and science. I just... don't know what I believe. I'm not sure the people that love the world's creator would want to ruin the world how they did. But seeing it all come back to life kind of makes me believe someone does care about the world, who's stronger than any human might be."

He ushered Jean around the side instead of through the huge front doors---there was a fire escape along the side he used, because it was easier and accessed the roof, which led to the tower's entrance. A short ladder led to the stairs that rounded about themselves, leading up, extremely high.

Jean-Sal loved the challenge of climbing. When he was younger, he was often referred to as a monkey because of the things he managed to climb. He took to the ladder and climbed it quickly, and easily. Once he go to the landing of the metal stairs, he waited for Oliver to join him before they started to climb to the tall tower above their heads.

"All you have to believe in is love, music and yourself." Jean-Sal couldn't stop smiling as the continued upwards, gripping onto Oliver's hand tightly. His fingerless gloves prevented him from feeling the warmth of his skin, but he loved the contact regardless. "So people get married in this building? You should see a gypsy wedding. So much dancing and drinking... It's a better way to celebrate the start of your next chapter of life." As opposed to what the city folk did when they got married. Boring service, boring talking, boring dinner parties... He just didn't get it.

Oliver jumped up the ladder effortlessly after having done so for so long. Climbing was easy for him, almost naturally so, his shoulders and fingers strong to lift up his body and his legs toned to keep up with his arms. As he followed Jean-Sal, he smiled brightly. It was a nice way to think, and Oliver would remember it. He would remember everything Jean-Sal said, really. Grasping his hand, Oliver laughed. "It's true." He said, nodding. "And it's all so carefully planned out. People dress as well as they can and sit in silence while vows are read for at least an hour, then there's the reception, the dinner, the courtesies... I guess the best part, for the newly-married couple at least, is the week-long honeymoon where they're left alone for a whole seven days." He made it up with Jean-Sal, to the top, and a small path led to a door into the tower. "But I still like the sound of a gypsy wedding more." He admitted.

Hurrying down the walkway, Oliver opened the door and ushered Jean inside. There was another stairwell, only it was well rounded and had no resting platforms. "Almost there." He promised, and as he entered, lights automatically came on. "It's a long climb, but worth it to get away from all the noise and lights." He pulled Jean in, the door closing on its own, and he walked backward so he could keep his eye on the gypsy. Perhaps he loved Jean-Sal. He truly adored being around the man, at least, but he'd never actually been in love. Maybe this was what it felt like.

He was impressed at how easily Oliver seemed to be able to climb the stairs, guessing he did so a lot. He did seem to know the layout of the tower like the back of his hands, and could even walk backwards so he could watch Jean-Sal climb. And Jean-Sal didn't mind it one bit, grinning and skipping up the stairs, not becoming out of breath or tired. He could dance for hours on end, after all. A small climb like this one wasn't going to wear him out.

They finally reached the top of the tower, a small platform and above their heads, several large bells. They seemed dusty and old and Jean-Sal wondered why they never bothered to clean and repair them. Surely the sound of these bells ringing would be as if they are calling Heaven down to their city? Four pillars held up the roof, but there were no walls. He sat on the edge of the tower and dangled his feet, glancing down at the streets below. They were up so high, the man made clouds passed under his feet. He grinned, looking over to Oliver. "I feel like a bird, all the way up here," he commented, glancing about the tower again. He was surprised that the city didn't seem to have much wildlife, even Persi had doves and pigeons that slept in their towers. He supposed the Versparians thought the animals were filthy. He often heard that comment when the city folk came to look at their farm animals.

The breeze, though man-made, was wonderful, and the dampness in the air here let the wax release his hair and let it hang loosely, the way it always did. He followed Jean-Sal to the edge, sitting alongside and bringing up his foot to rest on the edge. "Yeah, it... feels really free all the way up here. And from here, the dome supports aren't really easily seen because they're so far apart." He glanced up to the sky, and smiled at the clear, starry blanket he could see. It looked as if the inky sky were swirled with multicolored dust that moved as the earth did. "I heard a long, long time ago, the sky was so cloudy sunlight could barely get through. And that's what almost killed everything on Earth." He shivered, moving himself closer to Jean-Sal and resting his head against the gypsy's shoulder.

"I'm glad you like it. It's one of a very few places I like in the dome, one I can get to that my parents don't mind me visiting... I suppose anywhere in the dome is safe to them, while anywhere outside is dangerous. Maybe they just turn a bind eye..." He sighed, closing his eyes and enjoying the breeze and the warmth of Jean-Sal alongside him.

Jean-Sal listened to Oliver talk, and imagined what life was like for the young man. It seemed his parents were very controlling and even though he wanted to have an adventure, all they wanted for him was a marriage to a rich person he probably wouldn't be happy with. He petted Oliver's red hair, wiping the weird gel that had kept it down on his gloves and pants. He watched the city, seeing the market from where they sat. It seemed his tribe was packing up for the night. They would be selling their wares for three days and then they would be getting ready to leave Vespar. And for once in his life, he wasn't looking forward to leaving.

"You would have loved my parents. They were free-spirits. Let me do what I pleased, as long as it wasn't too dangerous," he talked about his parents fondly, feeling a bit sad that they were no longer with him. "My father taught me how to play the fiddle. He made the one I have for me when I became a man." Gypsies were considered men at the age of 16, and that was when they were able to start their own lives in other tribes or cities if they wished. ''They would have liked you. Especially my mother, she had fiery red hair like yours... She would have loved to braid it with twine and flowers."

He went quiet, humming a little and tapping his fingers against the cool concrete of the platform. He was still smiling as he turned his head and kissed Oliver, carefully pushing him onto his back and moving him away from the edge. "Want to do something exciting and possibly naughty?" he whispered, giggling slightly as he laid on top of the pale man.

Oliver smiled, enjoying the small tales of Jean-Sal's parents. He would have loved to meet them, there was little doubt about that. They sounded as free as their son was now, there was little doubt Jean got that free personality from them from day one. His parents were obviously close with him, and he imagined them to be friendly, tanned-skinned people wearing bright, handmade clothing and jewelry made from the best they could find in nature. He wanted to meet them, but the way Jean-Sal talked about them, the two weren't around anymore. The thought saddened him, until Jean turned to him, and almost immediately, his thoughts were on the one beside him. He barely realized where they were when Jean pushed him back; Oliver brought his hands up Jean-Sal's sides to grasp his waist.

"If my family knew what we were up to---and where---they'd kill us both." Oliver warned. It was barely a warning, really---no one knew where they were, and this kind of rebellion made his heart race almost as much as the act of lovemaking itself. He lifted himself up a bit, grasping Jean-Sal's hair and bringing him forward. "My writing will be so interesting tonight..." He referred to the book lying beside the fossil nearby, but that was for later. He'd have a lot to detail, just not now.

It all happened to quickly, it was just too fleeting. Before he knew it, Jean-Sal was laying next to Oliver on the platform, staring up at the old bells and wondering if there was a God, what He would think about them making love on his house. He giggled and rolled around, facing Oliver, who looked like he had been to Heaven and back in the hour they had been together.

"I must admit, I've never done that on a church before, or this high up in the sky. I'll remember it always." He sat up and bathed his naked body in the moonlight that managed to shine through the roof of the dome, thinking of the harvest moon festivals where they would dance naked in the moonlight. It was warm, even though it was only a reflection of the sunlight. It was good for the skin too, he believed, and he wiggled his toes as he sat.

"I guess you have to leave now?" he asked, feeling a bit sad. He wished they could spend the whole night together, but he knew Oliver had to get back to his home while he had to leave the city before he was found and arrested. He shivered when he thought about being locked in a jail cell. That was the complete opposite of the freeness he had in his life.

Being with Jean-Sal always felt like a dream, and a dream he felt was always so fleeting and instant. It seemed like that was just the case, when the world came back into focus and he wasn't able to see the look in Jean-Sal's beautiful eyes anymore. He sat up and leaned forward, pushing his hair back as he did and moving close to Jean-Sal. "I wish I could spend the entire night here, or anywhere, with you." Oliver said, pulling his discarded jacket onto himself. "You're the most... amazing person I've ever met, I can promise you that." He nuzzled the man, taking in the scent he naturally carried. Not sterile, not pristine, but natural and real and heavy and he loved it.

He pulled the rest of his clothes on, straightening them so nothing looked suspiciously out of place. He could explain away his ruffled hair but little else without garnering suspicious looks or questions. "I can walk you to the entrance of the dome, though..." Oliver piped up, visually exploring Jean-Sal's body before it was obscured again by clothing. "Then I do have to go, yes..." He sighed, hating the way they had to part. "But perhaps I can convince my parents to let me go for the whole day, tomorrow? I have to go to shooting class with my father in the morning, but I can get away after that, I'm sure." His tone brightened. That way he could spend longer with Jean, and he enjoyed thinking about that.

"I'd like that," Jean replied with a grin, getting up to his feet and pulling on his clothes. As he laced up his worn boots, he thought about what they could do with a whole day together. Jean-Sal would love to show Oliver the forest. The large wooded area that surrounded Vespar and cut it off from the rest of the country. Many were afraid, but as long as you stayed away from the toxic swamps, the forest could do no harm. Jean-Sal knew this most of all, as he often got lost in the trees, looking for treasures the gypsies usually sold.

He straightened up and hugged the man tightly to his chest, twirling around until they reached the stairs. Together they walked to the city gates and said their goodbyes, Jean-Sal gave Oliver a passionate kiss and then danced back to the camp, unable to stop grinning.