Mmmmmmm...breakfast

[fredless]

Who: Fred and ...[your name here]
What: Fred's Group Loss
When: Morning of the 15th
Where: Kitchen
Rating: PG 13 at most

For once she is isolated from her sisters, drawn to the inherently busier floors below. There is simply more to experience here. That much more to know. The hem of her peach-hued gown drifts behind her with every step, hair loosened and curling around her shoulders. Ribbons are twined throughout the tresses, a slightly more delicate shade than her dress.

Fred moves to make tea, feet briefly lifting from the floor as she reaches for a china cup from one of the cabinets. Steaming water is soon poured over fragrant leaves.

Comments

[thetrudger]

Geoff had been keeping to himself ever since being trapped with Teresa. He hadn't felt like company for a while. Finally, he has dragged himself out of bed in search of food.

He stops when he enters the kitchen, taking in Fred's appearance. She is breathtaking, like some sort of goddess or fairy. He's a little self-conscious, rubbing his stubble and quickly fixing his messy hair.

"Er...Fred?"

[fredless]

Though still serene, recognition and delight dances over her features as Fred glides across the room to greet the newcomer. Her tea remains on the counter, awaiting their reunion.

"Mmmmmmm....Geoffrey," She clearly does not find his unkempt appearance offensive. Quite the opposite as one hand drifts delicately through the air before resting on one stumbled cheek. "You write words that make others weak."

That same hand travels lower, brushing against a shoulder. Then his forearm.

"Does that make you strong?"

[thetrudger]

Chaucer blinks as she speaks, his brain almost unable to process the words. He was tempted to pinch himself. Hadn't he had a dream like this before?

He inhales a bit as she caresses him, surprise evident on his face. He didn't feel strong at all, especially these days. And with all the things tumbling around in his mind, fighting for attention right now, all he can give as a reply is confusion.

"...What? Are you all right?"

[fredless]

Her fingers curl slightly against his arm, catching on fabric and lingering against the warmth there before falling away. Confusion knits itself on Fred's brow.

"Of course -- I am alright."

The words are delicately and carefully measured.

"You are not strong, then? Am I mistaken? Are you are equipped to live the words you speak?"

[thetrudger]

Geoffrey frowns a little at the loss of contact. After holing himself away for a day, he had missed the touch of another. He wasn't meant to be alone.

"I'm glad to hear that."

And when he listens to the last part, a smile plays across his face. The devilish side of him can't resist.

"Oh, I am well-equipped, my lady. Do not fear on that count."

[fredless]

Her chin lifts slightly, clearly approving of the amount of deference in his words. Serenity is laced with noticeable pleasure.

"While not required, your satisfaction is noted."

Fred drifts again, a lightness returning to her steps upon hearing his reassurances. She all but floats around her companion's form, before coming to rest just behind him. Air slips beneath her feet, one hand ghosting over a shoulder before tracing an angled path across the man's chest. The statement is nothing if not possessive.

"I am gratified to hear of your skill. I would hate to have misjudged you." From over his shoulder Fred's cheek rests near his own. "Perhaps I shall even tell my sisters of you."

[demonologist]

Wes has been looking for Fred. She isn't in her lab. It's one of those things where he's been reluctant to send too many messages. The day before was Valentine's and while he had tried to downplay it to Fred, knowing that she usually spent the day trying to avoid the madness, a part of him had still been extremely aware of the fact that it would be their first, together. And it had passed without event.

He hadn't seen or heard back from her all day. Which was odd.

And so...this morning he's come to the castle to check on her.

When he walks into the kitchen, he's relieved to see Fred. She looks gorgeous, decked out in an outfit which he wouldn't have expected her to wear, but he's utterly surprised to find her draped all over another man, hugging him close to her.

"...Fred?"

[thetrudger]

Chaucer doesn't quite understand what she's saying to him. She has sisters? But it doesn't matter as he feels her touch him, hold him. He closes his eyes, taking in her warmth.

...Until he hears the other voice. He opens his eyes immediately and stares. He laughs nervously, glancing back at Fred. This must look strange.

"...Hello."

[fredless]

She remains as she is, one hand draped possessively over Geoffrey's chest. If anything she holds him even closer still. Still, Fred's gaze flickers to meet the new arrival -- immediately making his measure.

"You are equipped as well."

[demonologist]

"...Hello." Wes is side-eyeing this so hard. But he's trying not to jump to any wrong conclusions. He suspects that the castle is once again toying with them. Or, more specifically, with Fred.

Still, the shock of seeing her like this is enough to keep him rooted to the spot, unsure as to how to proceed.

"Equipped in what sense?"

[thetrudger]

Chaucer sees that look and is nervous now. Is Fred taken? But why would she act in this manner? He puts a hand on her arm, gingerly trying to ply her off of him.

"I...uh, I believe she was referring to your...she told me the same...Fred, are you sure you're all right, my dear?"

[fredless]

Fred drifts back, her arm slipping from his chest. She clearly does not require his assistance. If anything she seems mildly offending that Geoffrey might attempt to depart first.

She looks between the two men.

"Of course that is what I refer to. How else would you fulfill your debts?"

There is no acknowledgment of the other question. Of course she is alright. He would somehow suggest otherwise?

[demonologist]

He doesn't like the familiar way with which this fellow is referring to Fred as his dear, but he knows it's sometimes just a form of polite address.

Why on earth would Fred be referring to their manhoods? And with regard to fulfilling debts? The obvious conclusion is that she's on a temporary loss.

"Fred, perhaps you should go back to your room for a while."

[thetrudger]

Geoffrey sighs a little at the loss of contact, but he wouldn't want to take advantage of her on a loss, if this was indeed what this was.

He looks up at the stranger at those words, immediately wary. Was this man her significant other? Did he suspect him of nefarious deeds? Was he about to get hit?

He swallows nervously. "Do you think it's a temporary loss?"

[fredless]

Now she looks at Wesley.

"I do not require you to to tell me where I should be. You are the one that would deny my company."

But Geoffrey's sigh catches Fred, and still she remains close. One hand traces a shoulder.

"You, however, clearly wish to remain."

[demonologist]

Wes' jaw clenches slightly at her words and the way she's favouring the other man, but he tries to remain calm.

"It's obviously a temporary loss. Who are you exactly? How do you know Fred?"

Stepping closer to them both, he tries to speak with a warmer tone.

"It's not that I would deny your company, I simply wish to protect you from harm."

[thetrudger]

Geoffrey stiffens at her words, frightened of the consequences. This man is obviously jealous by the looks he is getting. He takes a deep breath.

"Geoffrey Chaucer. We... we met at Christmas. Who are you?"

[fredless]

Fred drifts back, easily gliding through the hem of her gown and seemingly unconcerned with their abandonment off her. She reaches to reclaim her tea.

"It is not your protection that I require. But if both of you desire it, I shall simply find companionship elsewhere."

[demonologist]

"No, if you want companionship, Fred. I'm sure you can find it here."

Christmas. When the kissing fairies where going around. Wes is now under the heavy suspicion that this is one of the people Fred has kissed previously. That sigh and the looks he's been giving Fred would account for it. Not that such kisses could be helped, of course, he himself had been forced into a few clinches, but still...

"I'm Wesley. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce." Surely Fred's mentioned him? Or maybe not. Should he add the thing which they sort of agreed not to? If ever there was a time, this is it. "I'm Fred's--"

Then he gives Geoffrey a sort of double-take.

"Wait. You're Geoffrey Chaucer? The Geoffrey Chaucer?"

[thetrudger]

"Yes, Fred. We want you here," he adds, concerned about where she would go and with whom. "What is it you require then, dear?"

His heart sinks. Fred's...? He had thought as much when he had arrived, but he had hoped against all hope. That moment at Christmas was one he cherished, a true treasure. He glances at Fred longily for a few seconds before pushing those thoughts aside.

"Yes. You've heard of me?" It isn't said with the usual selfish pleasure he took from his newfound fame. He is extremely jealous of the man standing before him.

[fredless]

Fred sips her tea, seemingly unconcerned. She will no longer pour either of them a cup. Her eyes briefly linger on the door frame, as if considering her departure.


"What I require does not concern so many words. Is that all that either of you are master of?"

[demonologist]

"Heard of you? When I was in school, you were called the Father of Modern English Poetry. I can quote many of your verses-"

Wes gives Fred a concerned glance.

"But, it would appear that we're boring our companion. What would you have us do, Fred?"

He's hoping fervently that it doesn't involve what he thinks she means. But, perhaps Geoffrey is now aware of how important it is that they prevent her from roaming the castle too freely.

[thetrudger]

Geoff inhales a little at that bit of information. No one had ever said that to him.

"Really?" He can't hide the little bit of excitement that rears up into his voice.

But when Wes mentions Fred he turns to the woman. "Yes, Fred. We want you to be happy."

He looks at Wes, attempting to give him a little nod that says 'I'm on your team.'

[fredless]

If Fred is sipping her tea, then she is all but feasting off the warm energy that briefly flows between the two men. The admiration is evident.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm Geoffrey...."

She floats briefly from the floor, just high enough as to claim a seat on the long marble counter. Still coolly distant, her peach down drifts down to cover her feet and ankles.

"Those who wish to please me do not ask so many questions."

[demonologist]

That warm energy is going to be considerably less if she keeps saying Geoffrey's name like that, with that expression. She's going to be making him feel quite insecure. Not that that's difficult. He's his own worst enemy when it comes to affairs of the heart.

Reaching for Fred's hand, he brings it to his lips for a gentle kiss. Perhaps that will assuage her for a while. Until they can think of some other way to distract her.