Room 408, Saturday Morning

[apocalipped]

The dance? Had been nice. Nice in that sort of, 'I am here, I am not being particularly social, but I have a lovely date and I'm going to enjoy this, damn it,' kind of way that Jono was so good at. But that much social interaction was tiring, to say the least, and so he was absolutely planning on spending his Saturday in bed. And it would be great, and to hell with anything in the world that thought that he was going to be getting up, at least until late afternoon.

It was possible that Jonothon was slightly delusional, yes.

[For wee ones, roomies, whatever!]

Comments

[empathic-fire.livejournal.com]

"Hi Auntie George!" Elizabeth said excitedly, waving. "Are you visiting Daddy?"

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

Poor Elizabeth. She was being perky at the crankiest dead girl on the entire island. This would not end well.

"I'm ... not your auntie," she said, "and I live here. And it's way too early for this."

... hopefully, Elizabeth knew that Auntie George was not a morning person. Or a people person. Or, uh, a much-of-anything person.

[empathic-fire.livejournal.com]

"Do you need coffee, Auntie George?" Elizabeth said, dropping her voice to a whisper at least. Cranky people in the morning was nothing new to her.

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

George burrowed herself out of the covers again, intent on saying something-or-other, when the words caught up to her.

Oh.

Well.

"... Please?" she said. "Uh. Thank you?"

Some coffee would be fucking amazing. She was totally willing to try to be civil if they pumped her full of coffee.

[empathic-fire.livejournal.com]

"I can get you some!" Elizabeth said. She was so helpful like her mother like that. She vanished (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomtownies/5729671.html?thread=221707143&style=mine#t221707143) from the room in a puff of black smoke, and a few minutes later she returned with a hot cup of coffee.

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"Oh you are wonderful," George said, grabbing at the coffee like it was a lifeline. Had the kid just vanished and reappeared with coffee?

... It was hot, and strong, and black, so George would not particularly care much if the girl had magically puked it up. It was perfect, and she needed it.

Not as badly as she would need it in, like, five minutes, but let's hope the girl had more magical vomit and/or dimensional traveling at that point.

"So ... uh." And now to try to talk to people. Er. A very short someone she shouldn't swear in front of, who knew who she was. Um.

"Let's ... play a game," she attempted. "It's called ... it doesn't have a name. But we pretend that I don't know who you are, annnnnd you have to tell me and I'll act really surprised. It's ... a fun game. Really."

George was excellent with kids.

[empathic-fire.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips and gave George a Look. "I'm Elizabeth Emma Karla Starsmore," she said. "Silly!"

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"Silly, silly me," George agreed. This was awesome coffee. "I mean, oh! Wow! I'm so surprised! You're extra-good at this game."

It was early. This was the best she could do.

"So ... why are you, uh. Here?"

[empathic-fire.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth shrugged. "There was a portal and I came through it and then I was here. I'm not s'posed to go through portals without Mommy and Daddy though, so don't tell Daddy please?"