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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"Oh, my poor Phil. Yes, I think Gilbert was rather cross with the world for a little while there."

A very bright smile. "Did you? I'm so glad. Did you like him?"

She grins, "I did like him. He was very nice and very polite. He's helping me improve my knowledge of geography-of-other-worlds, as I've never heard of his home country either."

She laughs, "He doesn't use many unnecessary words though, does he?"

As opposed to Phil, who uses as many as possible.

Amy laughs. "No, I don't guess he does. But he's a truly excellent story teller, if you ever get the chance to hear him when he talks about Narnia. Though even then all the words are necessary."

"I shall have to get him to tell me about it sometime. It sounds like a truly lovely place."

She laughs, "And I think that Caspian thinks you have an unfair advantage over him in your snowball fights," she gestures over at the be-ribboned squirrels. "They look like they're having fun. Which one is which?"

"I suppose he doesn't think the facts that he is taller and stronger and faster than I am, and has ever so much more experience in snowball fightings, gives him an advantage at all," she laughs.

"The grey on is Simon Perryvall, and the red is Mr. Pemberthy."

Phil has caught the squirrels' attention. New person! New people sometimes have food. Or are good scritchers.

"I imagine you're ri.....oh, hello," she says in surprise as the squirrels come over. She scratches the nearest one, who happens to be Simon Perryvall, on the head.

She grins at Amy, "They're darling, Amy."

"They're spoiled," says Amy, "but I love them."

She smiles.

"How are things in Canada? Did Anne tell you she's invited me to come visit Avonlea sometime?"

"Oh, Canada's marvelous. Full of snow and the holiday spirit. Much like here, but without quite so many interesting people. The Christmas season is the very best one for parties. I've been to so many that I'm beginning to lose count!"

She beams.

"Oh, I'm sure you will love it. Anne's going to come to Bolingbroke for New Years. I'm not entirely sure how I shall explain our acquaintance to everyone at home, but I'm sure I shall come up with something."

"You shall think of something, Phil. Of that I have no doubt. After all, you are two very clever girls. And if we can come up with an excuse for Anne's knowing me, an excuse for Anne's knowing you should be a piece of chocolate cake."

She laughs, "That's true. 'This is Amy, my friend from Phantasmorania' is hardly going to work. At least Anne is from the Island!"

"And as for cake," she says with a grin, "do you think people like it? I had ever so much trouble convincing my father that he couldn't have a piece. Now he's going to think I've gone and eaten the whole thing myslef!"

Amy giggles. "I think people are going to love it. I put in in the place of pride, right in the middle of the table, and told the squirrels there would he a great deal of trouble if I found any squirrel bites or footprints on it. And you can always tell your father you dropped it, and make him another one."

She used to work in a kitchen, after all. She knows how to cover for these things.

"Oh, I do hope so. I worked ever so hard on it. It's the only thing I can really cook properly, you know, so I'm always so very anxious when I make it. But I think this one came out particularly well."

She frowns, "Though if I tell my father I dropped it, then he will think me a clumsy little fool, and I shall feel like a silly little goose for days! However, it's that or blame someone else, and I couldn't really do that at Christmastime, could I? So, I'd best prepare myself for silly-goosishness. The cake is worth it."

She grins again. Problems do not last long in the world of Philippa Gordon.

"It looked perfect. And you can always go stand by the refreshments table and watch people's reactions to it. I'm sure everyone who tries it will love it."

She grins.

"Perhaps we can come up with a story in which the only sensible thing to go was to drop the cake."

If any two could, it would be these two. And if they can't, Anne can.

"Oh, good. I shall have to mark it off as a successful cooking project then." She shakes her head, "I have so few of them."

Phil laughs at the next. "Perhaps. Something along the lines of 'I was walking with the cake, and was attacked by snowball-throwing squirrels'?"

She giggles, and smiles at the squirrels as if to assure them that she would never say such horrible falsehoods about them.

"Oh, yes. We could even send one of them back with you, as evidence, and he could probably manage to look contrite. Or something that you could pass off as contrite."

Amy laughs, and Simon Perryvall gives an indignant bit of chatter and heads for the refreshment table.

Amy starts to go after him, but sees that the matter seems to be under control, and turns back to Phil.

"Or not."

Phil laughs at his antics and heaves a mock-sigh.

"I suppose I shall just have to face my father. Don't worry. All he'll do is tease me mercilessly while I make one just for him, though I may make him wait for Christmas Day."

She watches Simon Perryvall over at the table. "Oh, is that Peregrine? I met him when he first came to the Bar. He's a nice young man, isn't he?"

"Yes, that's Perry," says Amy, curiously suscienctly.

She's still not blushing. Of course not.

"Perry? Oh, is that a nickname? I didn't know. He's from another country I'd never heard of."

Phil notices the not-blushing and grins.

"Do you know him well, Amy?

"He's from Ambergeldar. It's near Phantasmorania. It's actually where I was working before I came here."

The not-blushing gets a little more blushier.

"It's nice to have someone from home to talk to."

And Amy doesn't know him quite as well as he seems to think she does. She likes him, but he's left her a little flustered.

Phil laughs, and then she smirks.

"Nice enough that we blush rosy red when we talk about him, Amy, dear?"

"I'm not blushing," says Amy, primly. "It's just warm in here."

"Whatever you say, Amy." She grins, and remembers an interesting detail she'd thought was irrelevant, "If you tell me he's just a pleasant enough fellow who brought mistletoe to the party, then I'll believe you."

Except that she won't. At all.

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Christmas Party! Millitimed Vaguely to "Sometime Around Christmas"

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