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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Or staying here," says Amy. "But I don't really think I want to spend the rest of my life at the end of the Universe."

Another sigh.

"I haven't actually figured out what I'm going to do."

"You can stay if you like," Perry offers, "but I think I might feel a bit guilty, knowing I have a friend who is working so hard down in the kitchens."

He shrugs.

"Well, I suppose we've a while to figure it out--that door doesn't seem as though it's going to be opened anytime soon."

"Very magnanimous of you, Your Majesty," she says, but she's smiling again.

"And I'm told the door keeps you here when Bar thinks you need to figure something out. So, yes, we probably have as much time as we need."

"Good," he sighs. "I'm not at all keen to get back to Cousin Persephone, I have to say."

Amy grins. "How bad is she?"

"Terrible," Perry says, gloomily.

"She chases me about the castle and the grounds, and I don't get a moment's peace. And she laughs when she thinks I'm trying to be funny, and doesn't understand when I actually am trying to be funny. And she will insist on calling me Algernon."

Amy giggles. "Is there eyelash fluttering? My sister Crystal used to flutter her eyelashes to the point that she looked rather like she was having a very odd and strangely located fit. And I don't think any of my brothers-in-law ever try to be funny. And they wouldn't know how if they did."

"Is that what she was doing? It looked as though something was in her eyes."

"It's suppose to be . . . alluring maybe? Or charming. And call attention to her eyes, which are no doubt very beautiful and very blue."

"I believe the proper term is 'limpid pools'," Perry says, thoughtfully.

"But they really only just look rather vapid to me."

"You must have looked very closely, then, to make such a determination" says Amy, with a not quite straight face.

He leans closer to her, and looks thoughtfully at her, to be sure, rather amused eyes.

"Hard not to," he continues, leaning back after a moment, "when they're right in front of you at every moment. And they are rather big."

The problem with a window seat is that there's really no where to go, when you get leaned at.

"I suppose so," says Amy, and she sounds just slightly flustered.

His smile is disarmingly cheerful.

"Then you'll help me avoid her when we go back?"

"How is a kitchen maid supposed to help you avoid a princess? Am I to leave a trail of lemon cakes leading away from you?"

"Let me come with you on those picnics of yours," he suggests.

"Besides, you're rather more than a kitchen maid, aren't you?"

It's that close look again, and the same odd half-smile.

And he might be leaning again.

"How are you going to come on picnics if you never get afternoons off?" Amy asks, practically.

There really is no where to go, in a window seat.

No, there really isn't.

"I suppose I could manage to get a half-day every other week," he says, cheerfully.

"I shall have to ask Peter Aurelious if it's all right, you know," she says, for want of anything else to say.

No point in asking the squirrels. They'd want anybody with food to come along.

"Do," he says, with a small smile.

"I'd dearly like to be able to come along."

"I will, and I'll let you know what he says."

Which will no doubt be "qwa."

A moment, and then she says, "You probably ought to ask Caspian if you may, as well."

She's not completely clueless, you know. Not any more.

He grins at her.

"I will make it my bext order of business," he promises.

"Good. Let me know what he says, and I'll get back to you with Peter Aurelious' answer. And now," she says, standing up, because there is, after all, one place to go in a window seat, after all, "I should make sure Logan knows that he hasn't . . . well, I should check on him. Hostess job."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Christmas Party! Millitimed Vaguely to "Sometime Around Christmas"

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter

Re: Refreshments and Chatter