paradisalost | ...it's Thanksgiving

Entry tags:

...it's Thanksgiving

Who:Fred, Harmony and anyone else that decides to come by.
What: Thanksgiving in the Tower
When:All Day Thanksgiving
Where:The Tower
Rating:PG 13

((OOC : This log is open to anyone and everyone that wants to stop by. I will be setting up some initial section, but feel free to add any others as needed. There's lots of places in the tower for people to break away))

Sometime just after two in the morning, a thought pulled Fred into wakefulness. It was Thanksgiving. Somehow in all the activity that came after the expedition, she'd almost let it slip away from her again.

It wasn't like they hadn't tried before, on more than one occasion. They would go out to the store, buy there ingredients and debate over just what they were getting themselves into. But somehow whenever it game down to the actual cooking of things, and getting themselves into the hotel's industrial kitchen? Something always happened. A demon attack or -- it might've been a run of the mill rogue vampire. And Wolfram & Hart?

Was Wolfram & Hart. They'd worked.

For days now she hadn't been able to shake the images of those bodies, clustered together in the auditorium. The natural comparisons to themselves. But suddenly in that moment? She didn't want anything of it.

Had't she said on more than one occasion that nothing was inevitable? Well there inability to have Thanksgiving was going to be made evitable. It just was.

Decision made, Fred scrabled from her bed and went to recruit some help.

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Fred catches sight of Charles settling down at the table, and a wide grin washes over her features. She'd always assumed he would come, especially since it was practically his idea.

But as it's gotten closer to time to eat, she had started to wonder.

She knew, of course, what he wanted and immediately lifted the bowl of potatoes to pass over.

"We won't be offended if you do have some blood, Angel. Don't abstain on our account."

He gives Gunn a respectful nod and reaches for the basket of rolls to pass to him next.

Gunn can't help it - he likes Thanksgiving, and there's not a hell of a lot that can ruin it. He tips an idle nod at Wes as he takes the basket, tipping a few onto his plate as he glances at Fred.

"Figured I'd wait until the last minute," he explained, even though she hadn't asked out loud. "Most of the time, me just bein' in the room with cooking food is enough to make it burn."

"That's not true." Until she seems to reconsider a few specific memories. "Well, not entirely true."

Fred casts a look at Elektra, as if to gauge just how much trouble she's about to get herself into.

"Besides, Wesley is only allowed to cut vegetables. Didn't you know?"

"Give me a knife big enough and I can cut just about anything."

Gunn pauses, then takes a very manly, kind of sloppy bite out of the roll.

"Except vegetables."

Wesley raises an eyebrow at Gunn's remark, then reaches for his glass of wine and takes a measured sip.

"Well, then, I suppose I have the market cornered on vegetable preparation. I do plan on moving up to something more advanced, eventually. Frying things, perhaps?"

Edited 2011-12-03 21:27 (UTC)

And Gunn shot Wesley a dubious look in return.

"You sure you wanna hop from 'chopping' to 'frying' so quick, English? Why don't you slide 'baking' in there -- sounds like a nice, intermediate step that might end with fewer grease fires."

Fred casts a look between both men, still freshly resigned to letting them both sort things out as they would? And when they would. They'd both made their feelings on her attempts at interceding perfectly clear.

But it was also Thanksgiving. And Fred is determined to maintain her good mood. She bridges the table with a smile.

"Hey now, I'm the baker here. If anyone else goes off and learns how to, you might not have any use for me at all. It's called leveraging a unique skill set."

Harmony had been blissfully unaware of a lot of things that day. Mostly she was unaware of the conversation going on as she stacked her plate up with food. She had been really good during all the cooking and hadn't even nibbled one bit. No grazing on the food while it was being prepared.

Now she had a pile of food on her plate as she moved through the front room to the dinner table and set it down, catching the tail end of the conversation.

"I'm sure Fred could teach anyone to cook. She helped me learn a few things today and all of it looks so good."

Did Fred forget to remind Harmony at nearly one in the morning that she was a vampire? Yep.

"You know, I've never really understood the whole vamps-eating-food thing," Gunn remarked to Harmony, leaning back a little in his chair as he swallowed the mouthful of bread. "I mean, sure, Angel does it sometimes - but what's the point? Does it still taste as good?"

He paused, then glanced over to Fred, eyebrows narrowed.

"Can vampires get fat?"

Fred felt every bit of color drain from her face as her gaze flickered from Charles back up to Harmony. Deliberately she put her fork down, sliding her own plate away from her.

With the waking up, then throwing themselves fully into the preparations? And all the guests coming in one after the other? It never occurred to her she hadn't broken the news to Harmony yet.

"...Harmony? We need to talk. I'm so...we need to talk."

"Vampire? Fat?"

Harmony glanced to Fred wondering what was going on.

"We need to talk? Why? Did I mess up the mashed potatoes?"

Fred looks at her friend, halfway to standing.

"No, you didn't mess up Harmony. Maybe we should go to the kitchen...."

"I don't understand... why do we have to go somewhere else?"

Harmony is confused to the point of really not understanding what's going on here.

Was this really happening? What happened to using post-it reminders?

"I can take her. I should go get something to eat anyway."

Fred glances over, clearly guilty. Then she stands, already pushing her chair back.

"...it should be me. This is my fault."

Wes suspects he knows what's happened, and what Harmony having a plateful of food in front of her means. Since Fred and Angel seem to have it well in hand, he reaches for the wine and tries to keep the conversation from lulling.

"Why is it that prepared food here actually seems to taste better than wished up food?"

Gunn is watching Harmony with more interest than he probably should - huh, so they go through this every day? - but he does, eventually, turn his eyes back to Wesley.

"Don't know. Probably got to do with the freaky magic of it. People know what tastes good. Magic don't."

Harmony is still very confused and the more everyone talks about here, the more hurt she's getting.

"I'm standing right here."

They don't go through this every morning, but usually it gets approached at a much earlier hour and it's usually not after an entire day of cooking for a meal that she thought she'd get to enjoy too.

Fred stands fully then, and moves next to Harmony. She places a quiet -- and hopefully reassuring hand -- on her friends arm. Even if privately? She hadn't really appreciated Angel's tone.

"Let's go into the kitchen, Harmony."

She frowned, but for the most part she was going to follow her friend.

Harmony followed Fred into the kitchen, "What's going on?"

"Harmony," Fred finally started, glancing again at the kitchen door. There was no easy way to put this.

"You're a vampire."

Her brow furrowed, confusion flashing on her features.

"I'm a ... vampire?"

There was a moment where she considered it and then she slowly let the idea take hold. "Huh. I guess... well, that sucks."

Fred stayed close, clearly concerned.

"Are you ok?"

"I think so...I mean, it's not what I expected, but I take it this happens a lot, right? The whole me not knowing, thing?"

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http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/ - 2012-01-17 04:20 (UTC) - Expand

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iamdamnloyal - 2012-01-21 04:48 (UTC) - Expand

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