It's That Time Again

[fredless]

Who: Fred, Harmony and YOU
What: Thanksgiving at Hyperion Tower
When: Thanksgiving Day
Where: The Tower
Rating: PG (Set up as 'action' log but if prose is preferred just note in header and I will tag accordingly)

[It isn't nearly as last minute as the year before, when a thought in the middle of the might pulled Fred from her sleep for an impulsive celebration for the holiday. Then, luckily, Harmony had been completely supportive of the plan. And even ensured that at some point she shed her pajamas and put on 'real' clothes. Even more 'real' than her usual ones, apparently.

But it seemed a shame not to have everyone over again this year, even if that word? Everyone? Has been drastically changed. There's still plenty of things to be thankful for. And now? Even more time to cook. Despite Elektra and Wesley's promises to help, Fred still disappeared pretty early Tuesday morning. There were things to be done, after all. And so much to cook.

Comments

[likethetragedy]

[Don't mind Elektra taking a seat with you, Lilah. The kitchen is awfully crowded right about now.

Just her a minute to think of good small talk.]

[succubitch]

[She doesn't mind at all.

But don't expect her to start small talk today. She's better than that.]

[demonologist]

[At some point before dinner is served and after helping set the table, Wes wanders into the lobby for a snack and a drink. He's been feeling a bit under the weather earlier in the day, but seems to have perked up now that the festivities are in full swing. He gives both of the ladies a smile and a nod before moving to pour himself a glass of wine. Then he notices the label. It's a wine he and Lilah have shared before. He glances over his shoulder at her.]

I see you've brought an offering.

[succubitch]

[She smirks a little as she hears Wes' voice, turning around to face him.]

It's customary, isn't it?

[And no one wants her cooking.]

[demonologist]

Perhaps, but since when did you ever do what was customary? And besides, this vintage is, well, it has sentimental value. Or at least I thought so, at the time.

[His gaze is a touch warmer than is perhaps appropriate, given the circumstances. In fact, there's a distinctly 'private joke time' gleam in his eye. He deliberately pours himself a full glass and then takes a savouring sip.]

[succubitch]

Does it? I hadn't noticed. [Or if she had realized her mistake there, she certainly isn't about to go admitting that. She's better than such weak moments.]