undergrounds | HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS... (DEC CATCH-ALL)

I. THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR

Faolan draws his coat tighter around him, not so much cold as uncomfortable where he stands, peering into the window display of the store in front of him. He's not been Christmas shopping in... Nearly a decade, if he's being honest with himself. This year is the first he's had reason to in a long while, and while grateful for that fact, he'd spent so much time avoiding the rush he'd forgotten it all. Forgotten how many people there were out in the shops at this time of year. Forgotten about the music.

He glances up at the speaker above him, frowning at it as it starts to pipe up its next Holiday song. The most wonderful time of the year indeed, Faolan thinks to himself. He's got one person to shop for, and he hasn't the faintest idea of what to be getting for him. Save for that he should be. Lancelot's asked him over for the holiday, and he'd have to be a pretty shit friend not to get him something in return for his hospitality. The only question is what. Being on a budget and having very little idea what the other man would like, Faolan is rather at a loss.

If he has to listen to much more of his holiday music he's going to go mad, though. Grumbling low to himself, Faolan fishes his headphones out of the pocket of his jacket and shoves one into one of his ears. At least he's half spared now, he thinks to himself as he turns and, peripheral hearing now gone, walks into the next shopper over--

II. DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW

Faolan slouches behind the line, waiting to switch lines on the way over to Hillingdon. He's been waiting there for god knows how long, and he's half expecting that he'll be waiting there forever. God only knows how late he's going to be in, at least no one's going to be expecting him right away. He wonders (rather dramatically, but then he's been waiting there for a while already, and his normal hour-long commute is dragging on ever longer) if anyone will notice his absence in time or whether he will perish here out of starvation or boredom or whether he'll wind up going mad and getting himself arrested just to have something to do.

His one saving grace perhaps is that he has thought to bring coffee. It's only from his coffee maker at home, nothing fancy, but it's caffeinated and since he's got it in the travel mug that Lancelot had given him for his birthday, it's still warm now too. Though it's going fast.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to flick through it, thinking about possibly calling someone to complain, but who would he call that isn't already at work or probably still sleeping. So with a sigh he slips it back in his pocket and raises his coffee for another sip...

III. O TANNENBAUM, O TANNENBAUM [CLOSED TO HILLINGDON MEMBERS]

Faolan certainly isn't one for this season. Nor is he a particularly social person at all. But he has been saying to all the other members about how there needs to be more of a sense of community to Hillingdon, and while he has no intention of forcing any sort of holiday party on them, well. He did threaten free food to Sirius, and he figures that may not be a bad idea after all. Nothing fancy, but he makes certain that there's a fire going in the fireplace, and he's brought in some donuts and made some coffee and hot chocolate and set it out.

It's by no means a formal party, and it's by no means a required get-together. But Faolan makes it a point to sit out at a table in the sitting room himself, in front of the fire as he works on a bit of the records-keeping that no one but the man in charge would have ever expected there to be for a place like this. And anyone who passes through is welcome to join him, or to talk to anyone else who passes through for that matter. To sit with him in front of the fire and speak to him or quietly on their own as he does his work, it doesn't matter to him. If you build it, they will come, or so the saying goes. Faolan's certainly counting hoping so, at least...

*** ooc note: Hillingdon members, feel free to use this as something of an open post if you like -- just note if the thread is intended to be Open To All (OTA) if you do! :)

IV. FROM NOW ON OUR TROUBLES WILL BE MILES AWAY [CLOSED TO LANCELOT]

Faolan chews on his lip as he makes his way up the walk to the front door of Lancelot's flat. He doesn't quite know why he's nervous about this. Maybe it's because he hasn't been asked to join anyone for a holiday in so long, he can barely remember the last time he's spent one with anyone. Maybe it's because he knows himself and he knows that he's probably making something out of nothing. That he's probably worrying about what he's brought with him more than he should be, and that Lancelot could care less, as long as he's there himself. But he can't help who he is or the fact that he finds himself standing on the other man's front step, fretting over a gift, not for the first time.

At least this one is better than a Monkey's paw, he thinks to himself, as he adjusts his overnight bag over one shoulder and the bag of gifts in his hand, before he steps forward and, hesitating, rings the bell. The muffled sound of music creeps out at him through the cracks in the door, and Faolan shifts slightly in place, struggling to make it out as he does.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Skip, for her part, doesn't mind the holiday travel times. It gives her a few good excuses to be out of the house longer than she needs to be. Plus, she needed to buy a few Christmas presents. For herself, but they're still Christmas presents. She reminds herself to slip the card back into the wallet it came from next time she hooks up with the guy. He'll probably call her for a quickie within the week.

She sees a slightly familiar face, watches him check his mobile, then can't help but smile a bit to herself. By the time he's put his phone away, she's sidled over, and, really, she can't be blamed for being unable to help herself.

"Lookin' for my number? I figured you must've lost it."

Faolan turns in place, confused for a moment that someone might have mistaken him for another person -- people do that, it's not often that they're looking for Faolan himself. But that accent, that red hair. He recognizes this girl. And apparently she recognizes him.

And apparently she actually was looking for a call. Shit. Faolan does his best to keep his face stoic, not looking for trouble, or drama for that matter, on the crowded train platform, not knowing how long he's still going to have to be waiting here after the fact.

"I've still got it," he tells her. And he does, for that matter. Tucked away in the same pocket of his jacket that he'd put it in when she'd given it to him. "Don't tell me you've been holding out for me, though. I know you could do better." He huddles around his coffee, taking another sip as he does. Mr Grumpy indeed.

"I haven't been wastin' away, starin' at my phone if that's what you're askin'." Skip grins as she says it, ready to laugh. Mostly because it's a funny disparity. He doesn't think he's worth waiting over, but he still thinks she did. Which is cute. A bit of ego and self deprecation all rolled into one.

"But I wouldn' have minded a call. Y'know. Get some drinks. See a show. Somethin' like that. Could be fun."

Faolan hasn't assumed that she has been waiting for him, at least not until she snuck up on him and suggested that she might have done. Because she had, mentioning him having 'lost' her number like she had. (More self-deprecation than ego, for certain.)

Faolan raises an eyebrow at her slightly. Get some drinks, he can see himself doing that. Seeing a show, though? Having fun? Surely she could find someone more fun than him. "I've been busy," he says, which is true, all things considered.

"Well." Skip can't help but try poking at it. After all, she likes seeing what makes someone uncomfortable. Or what gets her what she wants. "Are you busy now?"

It's worth seeing what his reaction will be, at the very least.

Faolan raises his eyebrows slightly. She... Does understand that they're on a platform, waiting for a train, does she not?

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asks, not realizing his choice of words might be somewhat lacking until they're out of his mouth. "I mean..." he says, backpedaling quickly, to try from digging himself into a hole (a talent he has gained over the years), "you can't be out and about at this hour just because..." Seeing as how it's still rather early in the morning. Faolan had been trying to get into work, after all.

"Nowhere important."

Just a review for an exam. Which, well, she's confident enough (and bored enough) to say she doesn't need. That the rest of the world doesn't operate by her logic or instantly bow to her whims is something she hasn't yet truly grasped. Or, at least, hasn't cared to grasp.

Faolan shakes his head for a moment, breathing out a sigh. "Well I do not have your luxuries, unfortunately," he says. "As soon as this train comes, I need to catch it. Head off to work. There are people that need me to do my work there, though I doubt they even know half of what I do for them there." He glances up and down the track. "I'm not even certain that I know yet, for that matter."

He might be saying too much. He might not have had enough caffeine yet today. Or maybe he's had too much. Regardless, he raises his cup to take another sip, as stubborn a man as ever there was. Mr Grumpy indeed.

"Then make them appreciate you." She smiles a little, seemingly undaunted. To her, it was that easy. "Play hooky for a day."

After all, they could have some fun. He seems like he's in desperate need of it. Of a lot of things, she's pretty sure. But she'll start with the basics. Which means getting him out of this place and doing something.

Faolan hesitates, wavering slightly. It would be nice to have the day off for a change. And not have to stand here waiting for the train for any longer than he's already done. But...

"I've only just started," he says. "I'm not sure that would give off the right impression. Or make them appreciate me, for that matter. I'm not sure that half of them even realize I'm there yet." He glances to the side, away down the tracks, trying to find the right thing to do, the right answer to give her, here. "I think it might set a bad example for those that do expect me, for that matter..."

Skip grins. A wicked look, perfect for the Big Bad Wolf. Except in young, female form.

She stretches, not at all trying to call attention to her frame and physique. Then, she shrugs her shoulders.

"You sound like you're on a leash. Which, trust me, lots of people are. But... sometimes y' gotta give it a little tug, y'know? Not jus' follow 'long."

The only leash that Faolan is on is one that he's created for himself, to be certain of it. But such a bond is often the hardest to break, because of that.

He huddles closer around his travel mug, looking very much as though he might crawl directly inside of it if he could, wishing the train would come and just save him from this dilemma. "I really shouldn't," he says, lamely.

"There's a lot y' shouldn' do. Doesn' mean it's not worth doin'."

Which, really, is Skip's motto. To some degree. Along with a lot of other things that basically add up to the same thing. Instant gratification and whatever sounds like fun are all she really lives for. Or, at least, all she'll admit to living for.

The instant Faolan can hear the train coming down the tracks towards them he heaves an inward sigh of relief. "I'm sorry," he says, lamely. "Duty calls. And I'd hate to keep you from your own appointments."

He feels slightly guilty that he's basically bailing on her, though, so in a split second decision he produces a business card from his pocket and hands it over to her. "Here," he says. Written on it is only his name and number in black text on a white card, but it's enough. "A rain-check," he says. Not for a date, but he wouldn't mind spending time with her, he supposes. She's obviously desperate for attention, if she keeps pursuing him despite how terrible he is, socially.

HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS... (DEC CATCH-ALL)

Dashing through the snow

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