so pile your boots up in the corner -- hang your jacket from the door

[herotypical]

Who: anyone invited to house seven's thanksgivingstravaganza -- as well as anyone walking by who might be curious about all the brouhaha.
What: giving thanks!
When: forward dated to november 24th due to predicted holiday hiatuses!
Where: house seven!
Summary: friends, food, fondness. family. festivities.
Rating: g for goin' up.

House Seven was decked out in soft oranges and browns. Gentle reds and yellows. The table was shoved up against a wall and dish upon dish of delicious Thanksgiving dinner-bits adorned it. Plates to one side, a pile of cutlery. Feel free to line up and pile your arms high with roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, carrots and green beans, cranberry sauce, sinful gravy. Stuffing. Steamed broccoli. The amount of food would almost be laughable had the guest list not been so long. Chatter abounded.

It was, by all accounts, a fairly casual gathering. No ceremony (Buffy, by this point, was all ceremony'd out after some fiercely dedicated meal-prepping) to stand on and no customs to keep. Just food and friendship. The only thing customary about Buffy Summers would be her delighted, enchanted grin throughout the evening. Very little pleased her more than a social event that was going well.

Mix! Mingle! Make merry!

(ooc; threadjack into oblivion and don't forget to add your character to the entry tags! have fun! note that this is forward-dated. i'll be tagging around myself later this evening. )

Comments

[herotypical]

"I had an inkling. Maybe two." She began to assemble -- on the bun -- what would have been a mighty meal on a plate. All from the surplus food that had yet to find a way to the table.

[all7seas]

"Good. I mean, lass---wouldn't want you to think things had changed, like."

[herotypical]

"...This is me -- being cool. Besides, things aren't allowed to change. Not seeing as how I have this whole dress picked out for Archie's ball and it'd just go to waste if things had changed and you weren't there to be my dance partner."

She turned back with the little roll sandwich on a plate.

[all7seas]

"You....you do? A dress? For the ball?"


Oh. And she wanted him to.....

Later. He could tell her later.

[herotypical]

"Archie and me went shopping. Or...non-shopping, what with the excessive freeness of everything. For a young-him, he's got pretty good taste."

She placed the plate in his hands.

[all7seas]

He took it from her rather absentmindedly. "Ta. So Kennedy took you shopping and you bought a probably-not-leather dress and....ball. And we're......aye."

[herotypical]

"...Definitely not leather and -- what, you suddenly don't want to dance with me?"

A hand on one hip. Playful enough, of course, until his absentmindedness began to sink in. "What's up?"

[all7seas]

"Annie? Dancing with you is one of my most favoritest things. Can we talk about it later? Amongst the pillows? You've got...guests, and your Giles, and oh he's brought Ginia! Quite a handsome couple wouldn't you say?"

[herotypical]

"...I remain undecided. Undecidedish. She's okay."

[all7seas]

And at that moment, Jack Sparrow felt a kind of sympathy for Giles that, if someone had hinted he would have felt it earlier in the evening, he would have laughed in that person's face.

"She's lovely! What's the matter with her?"

[herotypical]

"...She's dating Giles. That's what's the matter with her. I thought that part was obvious."

[all7seas]

"The fact that she's pals with Smoker seems to me the bigger problem. You don't want him to date a lovely woman? Seems he needs a bit of---"

And there Jack stopped, because discussing Giles's needs was a bit out of the park even for him.

Instead, he took a giant bite of sandwich.

[herotypical]

And it was well, well, well out of her own park. Leagues away. Perhaps in a whole different hemisphere. Her nose wrinkled.

"Okay, okay. No. We can't be talking about this. I want to be able to keep both my appetite and my interest in snuggling up to you after the festivities have all gone home and I can't do that if we even consider the end of that sentence.

So -- in the interest of an emergency evacuation out of creepsville? Quick. Tell me. Isn't it just about the most amazing thing between two pieces of bread you've ever had?"

[all7seas]

"Mmmmmmmph." That was pirate-with-a-mouthful-talk for Annie I love you be mine because your sandwiches, woman, your sandwiches.

[herotypical]

Smugly: "See? Thanksgiving. It's a magical time."

[all7seas]

He finally swallowed. "Magical. Possibly we should go in and eat with the other guests, eh?"

Jack was in no way a solitary kind of pirate. He thrived on the company of others. Being marooned or sunk in Davy Jones's Locker had been truly horrible punishments for him, as a result.

[herotypical]

"Sure. Alright. But before that? I've got your word, right? Window-invading, empty-house-o-clock?"

[all7seas]

"Honor-bright. Don't leave anything pointy under the window, eh?"

[herotypical]

"...Only pillows. Cushion the fall. Protect your poor brittle bones."

[all7seas]

He smirked at her and blew a kiss before stuffing the rest of that sandwich in his mouth. It would be easier to talk to her when there wasn't a chance of someone marching into the kitchen and intruding on the conversation. Later.

[herotypical]

Later, then. And later found Buffy sending off one of the last from-away guests and then leaning against the closed door. Momentarily exhausted. But pleased -- and why shouldn't she be? The night had gone well. Better than well. It had been a glorious coming-together. So she flipped about and turned to face the interior of the house.

Sure -- Jack had mentioned climbing into her window but first there was a duty to the dishes that she had to rope him back into.

[all7seas]

Sounds from the kitchen would probably clue her in as to the pirate's whereabouts. Splashing; running water; a man's voice, husky and gritty, singing a song about a whale named Alfred.

Jack was working quickly and methodically, stacking the wet clean dishes on one side of the sink as he worked through the pile of dirty ones on the other.

[herotypical]

She waited in the kitchen's doorway for a while. Listening. Watching. Arms lazily crossed over her chest in a rare instance of them not being used to hold the world at bay.

Eventually: "Who names a whale Alfred, anyway?"

[all7seas]

"Aren't you paying attention? Sigmund names him that, back in verse four."

Another plate was delicately stacked on top of the rest, and Jack got to work scrubbing out a pan.

[herotypical]

"Yeah, well? While you were fourth-versing, I was busy sending guests on their way. Gimme a break."

Said the Slayer currently not up to her elbows in suds.