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The door to Westeros was unassuming and like every other door in the hotel but Jon found that he always knew where it was and how to get it to open so it wasn't a broom closet and it was a way back home. He had been tempted a few times but had never ventured more than a few steps, just satisfying himself with the crunch of his boots against fresh-fallen snow. Today, though, he meant to go further.

Ghost was restless with having been cooped up in the hotel for weeks and while neither of them had liked the heat of the island, there had at least been the jungle to explore and hunt. The places the hotel led were stranger still and none of them that he had found so far had the kind of place he felt comfortable letting Ghost roam in, except one: Westeros. The North had always been his home and after Winterfell, the Wall and Castle Black had become as much a home as a bastard boy would ever have. It was dangerous to go back there considering his own men had tried to kill him but he thought he might journey to one of the other castles, one long abandoned due to simply not having enough men to garrison it.

Rimegate and Sable Hall were far enough away from the manned castles to be safe enough and would provide shelter should the snows grow too deep. Jon wasn't in fear of that. He was well-acquainted with how to survive in the North and knew how best to keep himself safe and warm should a storm come up. It was here that he felt more comfortable than anywhere else - be that the hotel, the island or somewhere in between. It was here that his purpose lay.

"Come, Ghost. Let's go home for a little while and see if anything has changed."

[Find Jon at the open door that leads back to Westeros, which is very snowy and cold at the moment.]

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"I guess it isn't much different than sneaking down to the kitchens, right?" That had been Jon's experience when younger and even now in Castle Black, he liked to stay near the fires if he could help it. Being warm and near fire was always a good way to stave off the old fears about wights.

"No, I think it's quite similar," Simmons agrees, her mind drifting to far-off examples and places. "Just like Harry Potter," she says, staring around them curiously at this odd alien world. "Tell me, apart from a continuous winter, are there any other odd behaviours you've noticed here?"

"Odd? As compared to what, my lady? An inn with doors to anywhere in imagination or the deserted island I was trapped on for two years?"

Jon could not help but laugh because, really, what was normal but a relative state in the scheme of things?

She falters at that, her mouth open because he's correct in that it's quite a bit of an odd turn to be in a hotel like that. "You have a bit of a point," she says, aware that she sounds mildly meek at the notion of calling this place odd and not that. "It's honestly an anomaly, but this is your world. It's constant, right? Or is it not? Is inconsistency a world feature, as well?"

"The cold never leaves this far north but the seasons can vary in length. Sometimes it is a long winter of several years, sometimes only a few months. We never know what we are going to get until it comes upon us," Jon explained.

"Nothing is certain except that winter is coming."

It's fascinating. Her eyes have widened and she's taking in every piece of information with the delight that's due when it comes to finding a new, strange place. "And how do you know it's coming?" she asks, hurrying to catch up. "Are there warnings of any sort?"

"Usually the Maesters at the Citadel watch the signs and send out a white raven when winter is on the way," he said.

"As to how they determine it, nobody knows. I have never been one for books or studying in dusty high towers."

"Studying in dusty high towers is the best idea I've ever heard of," Simmons says, a bit starry-eyed and fond while thinking about those dusty tomes and those high towers and all the things that she can learn. "I'd very much like to go there if we ever get around to those areas," she says.

"Or we could continue to walk in the winter?"

"We would have to get a ship from Eastwatch to the Citadel. It is feasible, but it will be a long walk from here. Are you up to it? And then a journey by sea?"

Jon did not know if it was wise, exactly, but the Maesters would not be looking for a Night's Watch deserter.

She opens her mouth to say 'yes', but then she thinks about the one reason why she shouldn't run off without a moment's notice or warning. "I really shouldn't leave for too long without Fitz," she says. "And even if time does come to a temporal freeze in the hotel, he's going to be extremely cross if I get to go adventuring and he's not here with me."

"Another time, then? When you can inform your husband of where you're going?" Jon had never had a wife but he understood that once married, a woman had to acquiesce to her husband's wishes. He had never found the appeal in that. Both Ygritte and Leah would have him murdered if he'd tried to assert a lord's rights.

She flushes rather red, considering it was cold outside and there was no reason for her cheeks to be this red. "Oh, no, he's not...Fitz isn't my...we're not," she pulled in a breath, brow furrowed as though this is taking all of her energy. "He's not my husband," she blurts out, a pang in her stomach reminding her of unsettled feelings she'd yet to deal with. "He's my partner. In science! He's my partner in science!"

"So he is absolutely not your husband?" Jon asked, smirking just a bit. It seemed this had embarrassed her and being so often the butt of jokes himself, Jon enjoyed being on the other side of it for once.

"Are you certain?"

Simmons doesn't think it's a very kind thing to tease to this degree and she sets her chin firmly downwards, flustered yet but trying not to think about it. "He's not my husband," she says, hoping that makes it quite clear. After all, it's not as if she hasn't though about how well they'd work like that, but they're not even approaching any kind of romance. "I just don't really know how to live my life without him at my side."

"A good friend, then," Jon said softly. He hadn't meant to upset her, exactly, and it seemed that he'd taken his teasing too far.

"You are very lucky to have someone so dear to you close by. I miss my family more than I could possibly ever explain."

"He's a very dear friend," she says, the relief practically rushing forward, infused in every single word that she gets out. "The very best friend I've got. He and I are roughly on par as far as intelligence goes, though I'm perhaps a bit more advanced than him, solely because I like homework better than he does. When you're young and isolated, it's nice to have someone," she says, fondly.

"I think that's true in any situation." Jon could not claim to be highly educated but he did have a moderate amount of learning for his time and his practical skills were above average. He found a kinship in Leah, who was also very physical, and he was grateful every day she came here to the hotel with him from the island.

"We should all come through to Westeros some time. You could do more...testing or whatever it is."

Would it be possible for small beakers to appear in her eyes, they would at the prospect of getting to inspect an alien world such as this. Fitz might not enjoy it quite as much unless he was able to apply an eye to the physics and engineering aspects of the world, but she would still drag him along and he would enjoy it. "That would be lovely, it really would," she says gratefully.

"And perhaps you can come back to our world?"

"Perhaps," Jon conceded. "Provided you do not do too much of this testing on me." He did not know what it would entail and he liked her but he did not wish to be confined in a laboratory. He had learned about those while on the island and they were less than appealing.

"It wouldn't be on you," Simmons quickly assures, smiling as brazenly as she can. "It would only be on the particles of your clothing, maybe a sample of your hair. We're not brutes," she laughs, even though what she's saying might not entirely sound so kind. "And maybe you could breathe into a tube or something."

"And, what, exactly, would that tell you?" Science seemed like magic in many ways and Jon did not trust anything remotely resembling that which Melisandre did on a regular basis. Red Priestesses were not to be trusted.

"It would give me a faint idea about the composition of your world's crust and terrain, potentially even a peek into the ecology and the biology and their workings," she says, her eyes practically sparkling with possibilities. Oh, she really does truly love the science behind new worlds and this is the closest she's ever come to one.

None of that made much sense to Jon but he nodded along all the same.

"I will make plans to return then and allow for your research, though I do not know when I will be able to. The doors are sometimes fickle for me."

Simmons is practically bouncing on her heels, wandering closer to him until she's side by side again. "You're my very favourite person," she informs him, grateful beyond measure at the potential and the possibilities. "I promise, I won't get into any trouble if I can help it."

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