kitchen_maid | Christmas Party! Millitimed Vaguely to "Sometime Around Christmas"

Christmas Party! Millitimed Vaguely to "Sometime Around Christmas"

Anne and Amy have been very very busy over the last week or so, transforming their usually simple white room into the perfect place for a Christmas party.

There are garlands of holly and balsam strung around the room, leading away from the wreath between the windows (and there's a grumpy looking crow, perched in the middle of the wreath, trying to figure out how to get the red ribbon from around his neck). A Christmas tree, candles ablaze, stands in one corner, with presents tucked under its branches.

Welcome, dear friend, to Anne and Amy's Christmas party.

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"Is it flattery if it's true?"

Because it's very very true.

"This looks like quite the party."

"I couldn't say," she laughs, and looks around.

"Yes, it seems to be going well, doesn't it? I'm terribly glad."

"Given the work you and Amy have done, I don't see how it couldn't have gone well. I'm very glad I could come tonight, Anne."

Ever so many layers of meaning in that last sentence.

"So am I," she says, with a smile and warm gray eyes, only for him, and takes his hands.

"Even though Peter Aurelious is being rather stubborn about it all."

"Well, what does Peter Aurelious know?" Gil asks softly, lacing his fingers through Anne's, and leaning a little bit closer. "Besides, he certainly looks festive enough."

"I think it looks rather dashing," Anne agrees, cheerfully.

"Amy's trying to keep the squirrels out of the Christmas tree, I think."

"I'm sure she'll manage."

Gil is really not overly concerned about the Christmas tree, the squirrels, or Amy right now.

"One would hope," she says.

"After all, she's been having to manage with them for quite a while now, so I suppose she's used to it. I still almost wish I could have brought Davy, he'd have loved them."

Her smile is soft, and very bright.

"How are you, Gil?"

"Maybe you can take Amy and the squirrels to meet Davy. Though I've no idea what you'd tell Mrs. Lynde."

He puts one hand on her cheek for just a moment.

"And I am very very well."

"We already talked about it," she says, with a smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes and sets them shining.

"And I'm very glad to hear it. Happy school's on vacation for a bit?"

"Yes. For the break from the certain students' compositions, if nothing else. And it's nice to be back home in Avonlea."

He looks at her, and his eyes laugh, but he keeps a straight face.

"Dear heavens. You and Amy loose in Avonlea? We shall have shutter all the windows."

"You needen't worry," she says, archly.

"I suppose she could visit while you're in White Sands, if you are so terrifically worried about it. And we're saying she's a friend from Queens, so if you are around, you'll have to help us hold it up."

"If you think for a moment, Anne Shirley, that I am going to miss the opportunity to see Mrs. Lynde's face when presented with those squirrels--"

He grins.

"Of course I'll help you hold up the story."

"Marvelous," laughing. "I did so want her to meet Marilla and Mrs. Rachel and the twins, and Diana. I think she and Diana will get on splendidly, don't you?"

"No doubt," he says. "But then, I can't quite imagine either of them not getting on splendidly with anyone, except perhaps Josie Pye."

He looks at Anne.

"Are you planning to introduce Amy to Josie?"

Anne makes a face.

"Not unless I absolutely have to. Why should I inflict the Pyes on poor Amy?"

"Excellent point, though I suspect Amy is more than a match for any Pyes you throw at her."

"Well, of course." Loyal Anne.

"But I'd rather she didn't have to try to at all."

"I'd rather none of us had to try, to be honest. Not when there are so many more pleasant people to talk to, really."

Ruefully, "so would I, but I suppose we have to take the bad with the good, and learn to accept that there will always be Pyes in the world. But there will always be Dianas, and Amys, and Matthews, as well."

She beams up at him.

"Yes, there will. But there will only ever be one Anne."

Anne looks down, coloring. It's a while before she can think of anything to say.

"You only say that because I'm the only girl who ever hit you over the head with a slate," she says, lightly.

"Anne, my dear," he says, and the tone is light, but his eyes are quire serious, "the list of things you are the 'only girl who' is very long, and the slate incident is hardly at the top of it."

Anne lifts her eyes to his, and they are shining and warm and there is an expression there that has been there only once before.

She stands on her toes to kiss his cheek gently.

"Thank you, Gil."

It is oddly sincere.

"You're very welcome, Anne," he says.

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Christmas Party! Millitimed Vaguely to "Sometime Around Christmas"

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