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"It doesn't bother you?" Julien asked, blinking at Toulouse. "That I think you look good, I mean?" He reached up, scratching at the back of his neck as he sighed. His eyes fell on a bit of fabric he'd picked up at the store, and he reached out to pick it up, running the red and white pattern through his fingers. "I've had more dreams." Squares. They could do squares. He moved to get his book, digging up a pattern of a grid of squares framed by plain fabric.

"And sympathy," Mireille laughed, nodding and toasting Felicity with her mug. "I was thinking now that the kids are older... sort of... we could take them to the movies one day? Since we could each watch our own thing."

Julien considered. Really, the dream had been rather nice, despite the mental image of blood on snow. "I had a lover, I think. In the past, I mean," he noted, fingers sliding over the fabric before he held it out to Toulouse. "He had red hair."

"Knowing Jules? Probably a comedy. Or maybe one of those feel-good chick flicks," Mireille laughed. "I actually wouldn't mind an action, myself."

Julien blushed but smiled, nodding slowly as his eyes grew distant. "All I dreamt about was waking up together, and the way our hair mixed. I guess I had longer hair back then," he noted, reaching up to pinch a few strands between his fingers, drawing them out to their full length. "I wonder if I should let mine grow out," he murmured softly, looking thoughtful.

"Oh, I like horror just fine," Mireille countered, chuckling. "But I'm not sure I should let Julien know that!"

Julien's heart skipped a beat, but it had nothing to do with the gentle touch to his knee. "Yeah," he whispered softly, with a wistful little smile on his face. "I should. A red and tan quilt big enough to wrap up in," he agreed, cheeks blushing a little as he looked up at Toulouse. "Maybe it'll help me dream of him again," he added.

"This IS Jules we're talking about," Mireille pointed out. "He of the sunny disposition and desire for everyone to be happy. Can you imagine him in a horror movie? He'd want to help all the victims!"

Julien blushed deeply as Toulouse laughed, his smile unwavering, though he did drag his mind back to the present. "Let's start by figuring out which pattern you like best, okay?" he said, setting aside the red and white fabric for use himself. "You like squares, but there are all sorts of things you can do with squares, like mosaic pictures that show up because of the colors you put together."

Mireille was choking on her laughter. "What are you on?" she demanded, setting her mug down on the table lest she spill it. "That's hilarious!"

Julien considered for a moment, then grinned slowly. "You want a patchwork quilt, don't you? Just colors everywhere, with no real rhyme or reason?" He hadn't thought very far himself, but it didn't matter, because now he had an idea for Toulouse. "We could totally do that. There's a box with a bunch of pins in it on the desk there. Could you grab it? We can use them to help us piece together your quilt."

Mireille finished giggling and moved to grab a napkin for Felicity. "Here," she chuckled. "You're insane, you know that?"

Julien was grinning again, his focus once more on the quilt instead of the memory of his lover. "Patchwork quilts can be really fun, I think," he decided, considering for a moment before looking up at Toulouse thoughtfully. "Let's see... you're probably going to want it at least... seven, seven and a half feet long? And maybe four or five feet wide, right?" he added, standing up and moving toward the desk himself to get his tape measure. "Stand still, okay?" he asked, moving to unroll the measuring tape to the ground.

"We'll cut the squares once we know how many you want per row and column," Julien added, nodding as he decided that his measurements made decent sense. "Do you want lots and lots of squares, or not so many?"

"I'm sure they're doing fine," Mireille chuckled, eyes crinkling as she looked up at the ceiling. "I don't hear any banging, anyway."