Brodie’s excitement animated his whole body, moved through him from his eyes down his shoulders to his hands. Nayan stared, started for a moment. The drummer had a naturally serious face, one of those distant expressions that made him look like he was contemplating something very important so you shouldn’t interrupt. His smiles – careful and private – during their conversation were tempered with a sort of self consciousness that Nayan would not have associated with the sudden eager plotting to get back together and ‘jam’. The anthropologist found himself all at once laughing. Charmed, he closed his book again and sat forward, swinging one leg off the edge of the sofa as he shifted to look at the other man speculatively.
“You think so?” Nayan smiled, eyes roving sideways, thinking. “Well… I really would like to pick up a bass again. It’s been a while mind you, but if you didn’t mind I’d love it.” A ghost of approval was somewhere in his chest, sending an unexpected curl of anticipation through his stomach at the idea of it. Vibration of a note so deep it was shaking in your bones, chords you could feel through your whole body... It had been years since he’d had the occasion. He made another ‘huh’ sound, then smiled again, wholly, “If you’ve got the way, I’ve got some will.”