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

Entry tags:

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

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. )

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Y-yeah. That happens.

[ she glances up at him from her cozy corner. ] I wish I knew how to better trip your memory, Derek. To somehow help.

[He give a gentle smile, shaking his head a little.]

S'all right. Pretty sure it'll come back when it's supposed to. Until then, we'll just have to tough through it. 'Least I'm pretty sure of who you are now, even if I don't know the details.

Oh? [ she sits up a little straighter; curious. ] What do you remember?

Impressions, mostly. Someone I talked to a lot. Trust. Time. Think you trusted me too, sometimes. It's like...looking at home in a faded photo. Pretty sure what it is, but ca't make out the details. Been reading the journal, too.

...Definitely me who wrote that stuff.

Trust is probably the best word for it. [ though she genuinely wonders if it could have been something else, once. some part of her will always wonder. ]

You and me. Same biz -- almost. And you've...[ her expression softens. ] I can't think of anyone who's been more there for me, here. Even me and Bones had our off-times.

Same biz. [He trails off thoughtfully.]

I'm sorry Bones is gone. [He can 'remember' enough to know that must have hurt like hell.]

Sorry I wasn't there for you, too. Not past having a few drinks over it though, if you still need that.

That'd be...that'd be nice. Traditional -- you know?

[ she sank back against his shoulder. ] The night you left, me and Jack had a few drinks out on the beach. He built a fire. He made a meal. I was just stuck thinking about how...about how you're my go-to guy for losing people, like that. And how I wasn't sure how I was gonna get through losing you without you.

I'm glad he was there for you.

[He'll move his arm a little closer; enough for it to be a hug without being a hug, but without crossing the line of completely wrapping it around the Slayer's shoulders. Even now, he still had his lines that he wouldn't cross, but his body language was still warm, protective. She could stay as long as she liked.]

It looks like I'm pretty lousy at staying lost, so at least there's that. You're gonna have to remind what your poison is, though. Pretty sure it wasn't tequila.

Is it terrible that I don't mind? I mean -- here's no picnic but I can't help but feel really glad that you're back.

[ side-hugs are appreciated. loved. ] And honestly? I'm not even much for any poison. Not until it gets bad. But the first time we got together for a post-loss pickling? Bottles of whiskey. Not that I'd be totally anti-tequila. I mean...when things hurt that bad, what's a little tastebud abuse between friends?

Put that way, I'm glad I'm back.

[After a moment, Derek will go ahead and giver her that side hug before sliding his arm back up onto the back of the couch.]

Did I teach you how to take it with salt and lime? Usually takes some of that sting off of it.

We never actually managed to upgrade to tequila. Not yet. Maybe next time? Because there's always a next time. We can try and add some levity into the whole affair with a drinking game or something.

Like Never Have I Ever.

I cna see that getting real messy, real fast.

[insert quick grin]

...Can probably manage it anyway.

...Just wait. I might not have your years but even with the similar job description, I've done a lot of living. We'll see how it goes.

Yeah, I think I remember something about that.

...You're still young, though.

Twenty-five, I'll have you know, is ancient for a Slayer. I started when I was fifteen.

Tweny five, huh? I still got a decade and a year on you. Gotta admit, you started a few year earlier though.

[ still not as old as jack; she says nothing about that. ]

They like us starting young. The Council does. But most girls don't make it past their eighteenth birthday.

Yeah. Lot of hunters don't make it much past three years, either. Here's to long life and doing the impossible?

...Long life? [ she feels the sadness sink in. just for a moment. ] We'll be lucky if we get another decade, each. Very lucky.

Any life we have is long, and I'll be hapy to celebrate every part of it. Gotta live while you're alive. Hell with the rest.

If I had a drink, too? I'd clink it against yours and say something along the lines of heck yes. Sadly, you'll have to make do with my solemn nod.

I'm good with that.

[He gives the slayer another quick, affecitonate half hug before settling once again.]

...so how did the cooking go? The cider definitely came out good.

Not so bad. I had help -- so no one should fall from food poisoning anytime soon. Not by my hand. Still, I'm sure you could've whipped up something way better.

[Derek chuckles at the compliment.]

Maybe at Christmas. Depends on whether or not you're tired of me by then.

So was it your roomies that helped, or someone else? And did the recipe make sense?

Mmhm. And Archie. I roped him in, despite the youngness.

[ a sideways glance. ] I won't get tired of you. You were...you are -- I'm guessing I don't need to tell you that we were close. If anything? You'll get fed up with my rollercoaster emotions and get sick of lending your ear when the next tragedy hits.

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