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"It's been a very serious concern of mine," Jeremiah replied, thumb rubbing against the skin of Algie's wrist. He had not let go, not started to eat again. "That dangerous deals are being made, taken, and possibly without awareness of what it really means." The other bit as well was a concern, that there might people who wanted to release whatever it was, The Enemy.

"... to be honest, Alg, I am concerned that my deal may be harmful." His free hand smoothed across his face. "I went to Sunny to get to other ashdown with the fliers and talked with her." Which he remembered now.

"Then why is she afraid of it?" Jeremiah's expression was pensive but it smoothed away in a moment. It never failed that Algie would voice, in some way, some of the detective's own concerns.

"I don't think her interests and ours are necessarily the same," he continued on. "Even if she doesn't want whatever freed, it seems like bringing Heliodora and the others out would likely free it and ..." He needed a drink, which he did so with his free hand. Just another helpful reminder that what had gotten him into this entire mess still seemed like it was an impossible task. If there was a way to bring them home, Jeremiah would find it, but what if what he found ...

"We don't know." His fingers squeezed Algie's lightly, his foot rubbing absently across the other's as well. "Too many questions, not enough answers, and most of them about a seemingly immortal young girl who probably understands us as much as we understand her."

The idea that them gaining knowledge, that understanding and pursuing just made matters worse ... No, it was the worst idea. Especially when it was exactly the thing that Jeremiah and Algie would both try and do.

Derailed from his thoughts by the hand on his face, the silver-haired man tilted towards it. "I am too," his voice was softer now, "not that I really know why they came back." He was not going to really question it because having the memories back eased some of the tension he had felt as much as it created new worries. For someone who prided themselves on their memory, the fact that he had lost so much was terrifying.

Even if he had pushed passed it, with Algie's help, it still had been unsettling to deal with.

"We don't really know what is coming," he said, hand pulling away from the table, "but I do know at least one thing ..." His hand disappeared, going to his pocket to pull out what had been put away earlier into it, and then he was bringing it back up to cover up Algie's against his face. Jeremiah tugged the hand away and covered it with his own, the item dropped into it and Algie's fingers closed over it.

"That is yours, Alg," he said quietly, knowing the other man would know the importance of the item - know exactly what it meant - when he saw it.

The Mercer family had a long history of daughters and those daughters not taking the name of their husbands to ensure the name would pass on and stay in the right hands. The ring was something that was given to their intended husband and also something that Jeremiah's mother had slipped into his things when he had visited for his father's funeral.

The pink on Algie's cheeks and ears was an added bonus, Jeremiah's lips curling up into a smile. A ruddy red made it's way onto his own cheeks a moment later when Algie was slipping off his bloodstone pinky ring. He had not, in all honesty, been thinking about a trade. "Of course I'll wear it." Not that he was the kind to wear jewelry and people were bound to notice ...

Especially when he was trying on Alg's ring only to find that it fit properly on his ring finger. Of all the places it could fit, it had to be there. His thumb brushed across the warm metal of the ring, blue-green eyes glancing up to meet vivid green, an amused look meeting that wry smile. "Oh I thought you knew, Alg. I am going to continue with breaking tradition and making my father roll around in his grave by taking yours." His hand was held out, the bloodstone ring so very obvious on his finger, for the other man to take.

No comment about the fact his father was a p***k. There was no need to bring him up, especially when he had run into a thing that had reminded him of his father in so many ways.

"Jeremiah Mixlin does have a nice sound to it."

Jeremiah laughed at the look on Algie's face and what was said. "It does, a bit," he admitted. He was not actually thinking about really getting married. That seemed too much like people getting involved and everyone knowing things and he was still very much about this being theirs.

He went easily when tugged, still chuckling, and kissed Algie back. This time he was the one letting out the breath at the kiss, fingers tangling together. Jeremiah broke the kiss but did not pull away, instead nuzzling his nose along the other man's cheek. There was that slide of stubble against stubble again, twisting something in his gut.

"... besides I'm still enjoying this being ours," he murmured, breath against Alg's ear.

Jeremiah chuckled low, just a little amused. "Of course, snøfnugg," Norwegian this time, "because feeding you is very important."

He turned and caught Algie in a kiss, something chaste and soft this time. Even as he let the other go with one press of fingers to his pulse point, Jeremiah's foot slid up briefly before stilling back into just being against the other.

"Never waste chicken parmesan."

"Really," he did in a mimic of the other. What did he expect? The detective went through a lot of things just for Algie.

It was particularly cheaty that Algie could do that but Jeremiah did not seem to mind in the slightest. Besides, the ring on his finger - the ring on the other man's pinky - was distraction enough to move back to their dinner.

Algie's warm touch lingered after he pulled back and Jeremiah gave him a smile before he was tucking back into his own meal. The silence was more than comfortable.