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

[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.

[thetrudger]

Geoffrey blushes a bit when she moans his name. Never has he wanted a lady to not moan his name as much as he wants Fred not to.

He backs up and puts his back against a wall, afraid that leaving will upset Fred, but feeling awkward around the couple. He just can't help but feel a little shudder of jealousy run through him at the soft kiss.

[fredless]

Fred gladly yield her hand, allowing the man to kiss it. She can feel his breath across her skin.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm, Wesley...."

There is a whisper of something in that name, perhaps more worm across the edges. Familiar. But only just -- and then it is gone.

Chaucer commands her attention once more.

"Your cheeks grow warm." Her gaze takes in the whole of him. "I preferred when your warmth was elsewhere."

[demonologist]

As gratified as he is to get his name spoken in that way, Wes is very aware of how Fred doesn't really remember him, or what they mean to each other. He tries not to show how it rattles him. Especially when she's going on about Chaucer's 'elsewhere' warmth. Which doesn't leave much to the imagination. Presumably she's talking about current events, but there's a nagging doubt in the back of his mind that it could have been some other time. No, he trusts Fred. She'd never willingly hurt him in that way.

It's the castle's fault. Not Fred's, nor Geoffrey's. After all, can he blame the man for being attracted to Fred? She's lovely in every sense of the word.

"Let me get you some more tea. Perhaps Geoffrey could recite a poem in your honour?"

[thetrudger]

Geoff would normally laugh at such phrases, smirk and purr into the lady's ear, but this was not right.

His face may still be red as he opens his mouth to say something to Wesley, anything to convince him they weren't a thing, but Wes offers to get tea and tells Chaucer to recite a poem.

He stands there a moment, staring at Fred like a deer in headlights. He clears his throat, trying to muster up his courage.

"Yes, of course. Er...

Lady Fred,
As sweet as the dew of a new spring morn
I shall never, in your company, be forlorn,
For you are fair as the flower
Radiant as the sun,
And I shall praise your beauty,
Till my days are done."

He glances over at Wes, hoping that was mild enough for him.

[fredless]

She remains seated, allowing Wesley to prepare more tea and waiting expectantly for her verses. When they finally come she closes her eyes, tilting her head back to listen. By all evidence, Fred is not displeased.

She opens her eyes again, drifting back down towards the floor.

"Do you only praise with words?" And now, her gaze flickers to Wesley. "And you, with tea? Was I mistaken?"

There is something almost petulant in her expression.

"I thought to share you with my sisters."

[demonologist]

Wes finds the poem perfectly acceptable. The problem, however, is that Fred seems intent on demanding other forms of adoration. While he would be happy to offer them, if it means she will be kept distracted from the rest of the male population, it still feels wrong to do so while she's like this. And would he be able to hold her interest for as long as this loss lasts?

Before he can think of something to say, she makes a statement which causes him to raise his eyebrows in alarm.

"Your sisters? Who are your sisters?"

[thetrudger]

Geoff would like to know this as well. He turns back to Fred, the same question in his own eyes.

[fredless]

Fred has no objection to answering the question put to her, even if they seemed incapable of answering her own.

Vaguely distracted, she considers the door.

"You know them here by the names Harmony and Cordelia. We are sisters bound, and together share our bed with those equipped to honor us."

[demonologist]

To this, Wes has only two words to say.

"Oh, god."

[thetrudger]

Chaucer frowns at this new information. He hasn't met either of her 'sisters'. He glances over at Wes curiously when he speaks.

"What is it? Do you know what she's talking about?"

[fredless]

The door. It really is most appealing. Certainly more than the current thread of conversation. Fred drifts closer to it.

"They must be... missing me by now."

[demonologist]

"Cordelia and Harmony are our friends from back home. She lives with them in Hyperion Tower. If they are all affected like this, lord help us."

He heads to try to intercept her.

"Stay with us, Fred. I think it would be for the best if there wasn't too much bed sharing going on right now."

[thetrudger]

It briefly runs through his mind that perhaps the other two are single, but, like the good guy he really is, he wipes it out of his brain. Losses are bad.

"It will be difficult to keep them in one spot. I'm afraid they'll be all over everyone."

He walks toward Fred, too. "Please don't leave, Fred."

[fredless]

Again, her brow knits slightly. It is the only thing that mars an otherwise serene expression. Fred simply does not understand.

"You would have us go against our natures?"

She looks between them both, disappointment evident. And perhaps something else.

"We must find someone that is equipped." Angel was not here, after all. "We shall have to continue searching, it seems." She drifts around them and through the door, gown whispering. After a moment of hesitation Fred turns slightly, her hand casting an arch towards the doorway. A few quietly said words follow.

Then she is gone.

[demonologist]

Wes' frown is much more prominent. He doesn't like the sound of what Fred's proposing. He tries to intercept her, realising too late that perhaps he should have tried a more direct approach and pulled her into a romantic kiss or something along those lines. But her being on a loss had made him hesitate to take such liberties.

"Fred, wait-" Wes tries to make a grab for her hand again but finds himself bumping headfirst into a magical forcefield. There's a brief flash of blue light and he finds himself knocked back a few feet. It stings a bit, like a mild electric shock.

[thetrudger]

"Fred-"

And then he watches as Wes flies back. He hurries to the man's side, offering a hand.

"Wesley, are you all right?!"

[demonologist]

Wes barely notices the help at first, shrugging it off and trying to get through the barrier again. The same result. So he picks up a chair and throws it at the open doorway. It flies through without obstruction.

Then he sighs, turning to Geoffrey.

"You try it."