He first hears a loud little thud on the floor, followed by the high pitched meowing of the little kitten. This puts a huge smile on Booker's face. A smile of pure joy and excitement. The moment the little thing came up to him, rubbing at him excessively and demanding, Booker wastes no time in reaching down and picking him up. If there was anything in the world that could make this grown man melt, it was animals. "Hello there, Darwin!" He says politely, holding the kitten just a few inches from his face. "Someone is excited to see us! And boy, he's got a motor on him." He's like a little vibrating chainsaw in my hand! Darwin manages to both comfort Booker and make him forget what he was doing. I'm holding onto this little guy. You're gonna be my security blanket whether you like it or not. "I was actually planning to maybe start a no-kill shelter here in the city. If that isn't obvious enough, I love animals .. a lot." He chuckles, feeling not even the slightest bit silly or ashamed of his passion for all things that couldn't speak English and ran around on four legs.

Booker walks to the kitchen, still holding Darwin, only placing him on the hardwood floors when he opens the fridge and grabs two regular beers; one for himself, and one for her. "If I heard you correctly, you said you were a healer? Like, a shaman or something? Or alternative medicine?" He walks back to where he stood before by the couch, now seeing the gauze, neosporin and peroxide. He places her beer beside these items (opening it, too), giving them a hesitant stare of the coming discomfort. Darwin, persistent as any young thing, continues to rub on Booker's leg and beg his attention. But Booker's entire observation was Sorcha. He sits back in his wet spot on the couch, popping off the cap to his beer and quickly taking a long swig of it. It burns, quite bad, on his busted lip. FUCK THAT HURTS! He groans, trying to keep it hidden. Darwin has managed to get on the couch and was now in Booker's lap. He pets the kitten as he listens to Sorcha, who was now back in her room and appeared to be getting out clothes. His gaze immediately turned to Darwin, but he kept sneaking in a few glances at her. He pets the cat, sipping his beer, the butterflies coming back to his stomach.

If the redness on his cheeks was gone, it was certainly back now. Booker was well-mannered and a gentleman, but he still can't help but look at her, hoping to maybe catch a peek at something.

He really has to think how to answer her question and not just because he was ogling. "Um, well, right now I guess I'm in between jobs?" This was a lie. Booker has never really had a job his entire life. "I'm writing and reading, about the paranormal and old folktales of Sacrosanct. A lot of the old wives' tales, I find, are actually not so fable after all. And I guess acting as a private detective on the side?" He pauses, a look of sadness suddenly swarming over him. "I'm not sure if you heard or remember this, but several months ago a couple was murdered in their cabin. Just a few miles from the city. No one has caught the people or have any leads and the police just seemed to throw it aside, but I think they deserve better than that. I'm not even sure if it was in the news but once and then nothing after that." Another long gulp of his beer and Booker is nearly finished with it already. He starts to rub the side of his left temple with his left hand, his right holding the bottle tightly. He stares at the medical supplies and seems to be in a world all his own. "Their names were Martin and Lisa Lowell, my um .. my parents."

Then he just sits there silent, his eyes glistening and his voice soft towards the end. He doesn't actually cry, but the sadness was there. He gives Sorcha a weak smile, still and accepting of her medical attention on his face now more than ever before. "Lets just get this over with, yeah? My sore lip will be very thankful for it and I know you've just been dying to pour that peroxide on me and see me dance from the pain." He tries to change the mood back to flirtatious playing and leans a little forward on the couch. "Is Darwin your assistant?"

That kitten was now on the hardwood floor, meowing for Sorcha and begging for her attention. Sorry buddy, but she's gonna baby me for awhile.