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

[reticence]

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.

Comments

The most wonderful time of the year

[occultdisciple]

"Careful."

The word is murmured. Coward sounds more amused than concerned as he steps to the side to just miss the collision. People, he's found, will always have some way of distracting themselves. Be it daydreaming, reading, talking, or, in this case, listening to music. It's a time-honoured tradition, especially in a public place. This man is no exception.

Just the means change, which is amusing, really.

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at the other man (at 5'6", he's usually looking up at people, regardless), tugging the earbud out of his ear, a bit embarrassed that he'd nearly collided with him.

"Sorry," he says, glad that at least he isn't carrying a coffee at the moment, nor does the other have a drink either for that matter. His last accidental run-in had not proved nearly as fortunate. He gestures above them, at the speakers, mostly hidden from sight but still piping out their festive cheer. "If I had to listen to another one of these songs I thought I was going to go mad..." He tries to explain his blunder away.

[occultdisciple]

Colin chuckles a little. It's understandable in a way. Then again, quite a bit of music now annoys him. He tolerates it, yes, and there's some he even likes, but... Well. It's a mark of age.

"They do seem to start it earlier and earlier every year," he acknowledges.

[reticence]

"If I could avoid it, I would," Faolan responds, honestly. Truth be told, he had avoided it, as much as possible. But he can't avoid it completely. And there's the rub. If he didn't need to be out here to look for a gift for Lancelot, he'd probably be hiding away somewhere still. He shrugs slightly.

"Again, I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going, and with so many people about, that's my mistake."

[occultdisciple]

"It's no trouble, really." He smiles as he says it, offering a polite nod. After all, he was young before. Distraction was simple enough to fall into.

Then, he says, "I would advise online shopping. Saves quite a bit of hassle."

[reticence]

Faolan huffs out a breath that might have been a laugh, in another life. "I'll keep that in mind," he says. "I was hoping that I would be inspired, walking the shops, looking in the windows. I don't actually know what I'm looking for."

He turns to the other man with something of a shrug, not exactly knowing who (or what) he's talking to. "Turns out that's my mistake, in the end. Of course, I'm not having much luck, regardless."

[occultdisciple]

"Who are you shopping for? Perhaps I can offer a few suggestions."

Just as likely not, of course, but he can make the attempt.

Dashing through the snow

[wolfmarked]

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."

[reticence]

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.

[wolfmarked]

"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."

[reticence]

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.

[wolfmarked]

"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.

[reticence]

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.

IV

[knightscode]

Lancelot's place is not overtly decorated from the outside with Christmas cheer, in fact the only hint of holiday decoration about the place is a string of twinkling lights edging the windows from the inside. There's a short bark at the sound of the doorbell, then the sound of animal paws scuffling along wooden floors to wait patiently to see who has arrived. He opens the door with slightly dishevelled hair, one hand dropped to hold Lily by her collar so she doesn't surge forward, and a festively patterned sweater featuring small hearts and a row of reindeer. The sound of distant conversation is clearer now that the door is open, at least two or three other people talking, as is the music -- which is now obviously a radio station.

"Faolan! You made it! Please, come in, here -- do you want me to carry something?"

Lily thrashes her tail excitedly as Lancelot edges her back a step, and Lancelot smiles a little sheepishly.

"The others are still here, I hope you don't mind?"

'The others,' Faolan will notice once he's in a few steps, are gathered in Lancelot's small living area. A blond man sipping a drink who regards Faolan with total boredom, as if he's wasting his time by even existing, a slightly smaller man with the most artfully dishevelled mop of hair and stubble seen to man and a rakish smile that seems less than trustworthy, and a man who appears to be over six foot and made largely of muscle.

[reticence]

'The others.' Faolan's grip tightens subconsciously on his bag and he shakes his head at the offer, his stomach doing an uncomfortable flip for no reason that he could put into words. "I'm fine," he says. "Just let me know where to put it that'll be out of the way." And not, as it turns out, smack down in the middle of whatever gathering he's apparently having.

He takes in the look of the others in turn, using the excuse that he has things to set down and hide away as an excuse to hover in the entry. He hadn't been expecting that there would be others here, and the fact that he doesn't know who any of them are... Well. Logically, Lancelot knows people. He's obviously lived here for a few years, been with the police -- is that who these people are? Is that how he knows then? He casts another wary glance across their faces, not like the look of the first. Has he seen him before, perhaps on the other side of a cell. He does have a record, one that he's done his best to pretend not to in the presence of his squeaky clean friend involved in law enforcement.

Faolan himself is not dressed very festively under his leather jacket, but he's okay with that, especially with so many eyes suddenly turned his way. Had Lancelot said there would be people? Had Lancelot said that there were people? Faolan honestly can't recall any mention at all. He stands frozen and hesitant in the entry, just far enough in for Lancelot to be able to shut the door but otherwise awaiting further instruction, suddenly feeling very lost, very small, and very out of his element.

[knightscode]

"Leave it anywhere you like. Is there anything that needs to go in the fridge? Or you can put things in my room if you want them out of the way."

Lancelot is gently encouraging Faolan further into the house, Lily now released to bounce around his feet excitedly and sniff at his bags. It's been so long since she's seen him! Exactly forever! What is in these bags? Is it for dogs? Everything is for dogs!

One of the men whistles sharply and Lily turns, ears pricked, then spots him sliding off the sofa -- rakish grin twitching up a notch as he beckons her over. She dashes toward him excitedly, leaving Lancelot and Faolan to organise themselves in peace as she roughly begins a wrestling match. Yes! Yes he is at her level now! Yes! This is good!

"Arthur, Gwaine, Percy -- and this is Faolan!" he says, making a quick round of introductions before giving Faolan a reassuring shoulder squeeze.

[reticence]

Faolan nods in response to the greeting that Lancelot has given, taking quick note of each man and matching the name to the face in turn. Taking in the ease with which Lily interacts with them, for a start -- knowing that he has to know them well for her to be so comfortable with them in turn. He wonders how well. He wonders how long, when he hadn't known of them before. He supposes that Lancelot is a private person, he only knows as much as he does because... Well. The wolf. Their job. Perhaps they would not be so close if circumstances had been different. Perhaps...

Faolan shakes himself out of that train of thought at the grip Lancelot has on his shoulder, turning to the other man instead. "Nothing that needs the fridge," he confirms, "though. I'd rather stow this in your room, if that's alright." Shrugging his shoulder slightly, to indicate his overnight bag. He'd rather not leave it out for just anyone to get to go through, especially not when he may or may not have a concealed illegal weapon hidden in there and he doesn't know who any of these men are, not really. What they might do if they find it.

He bites his lip slightly, his stomach threatening to crawl up and into his chest and Faolan uncertain as to why. "I have some things for you," he says awkwardly, before continuing with his voice lower to make sure it is for Lancelot alone. Stumbling over the words, just as uncertain of them as he is of the situation itself, "I... I didn't realize... If this is a bad time..."

[knightscode]

He turns at the statement, lofts an eyebrow before letting his expression paint into a smile. His voice drops lower to match Faolan's own.

"I have something for you too," he answers, "We can keep it for later. They aren't staying the night, don't worry."

Wrinkling his nose at Faolan he glances up a second, lets his smile flick up higher to something playful and ducks in to brush a kiss against Faolan's cheek.

"And careful of the mistletoe," he murmurs, then tugs at Faolan to lead him through the throng of people toward his room. Gwaine offers them a low whistle, Lily scrabbling up from the ground before he gently inches her out of the way for them.

[reticence]

Something settles slightly inside of Faolan -- 'they aren't staying the night, don't worry' -- and he turns his head to tell the other man that he wasn't worried. Not really. (Yes he was.) But as he turns his head to say so, he catches the look on the other man's face. And as he's glancing up to follow the other man's gaze, Lancelot's leaning forward, brushing a kiss against his cheek.

Mistletoe, the other man explains to him, and it makes sense. It's a holiday gathering after all, mistletoe would fit right in with that. But he wasn't expecting it, and he's already on edge. And Lancelot's lips are soft against his cheek, his stubble scratching slightly. And he smells good -- he always smells good -- and well. Faolan would be lying if he didn't recognize that he was attractive.

He'd surprised him, like that, and Faolan can feel all the breath go out of him as his heart starts pounding hard in an attempt to make up for that fact. Careful of the mistletoe, Lancelot says, before he drags him out into the fray of it all, and it's all Faolan can do to keep a hold on his bag and stay on his feet, never mind ask him to elaborate on that point. Is there more...? He feels warm, and he's not certain whether it's because he's still got his jacket on now that he's indoors or whether his face is flushing. Whatever the reason, Lancelot's friend is not helping matters.

III, OTA

[constantprisoner]

True to his word, Sirius appears at the presence of free food. He helps himself to a donut, as well as hot chocolate, doing his best not to disturb Faolan. It doesn't stop him from leaning over to look at the records, remarking that the task "looks awful".

Otherwise he settles himself in the fire to enjoy his donut.

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at the other man as he approaches and makes comment on his paperwork, quirking something of a smile at him as he does. "You'd better be glad that you all aren't stuck doing this yourselves, that's all I've got to say on the matter," he responds, before gesturing to the food set out across the room.

"Took your advice. It's nothing special. If it gets too close to anything resembling a planned gathering, I'm sure the rumor will spread and no one would show. But it must be casual enough," he says, glancing back up at the other man. "You're here at least."

[constantprisoner]

"I am. I'd be rubbish at it," Sirius replies. He's never liked paperwork, and treats it in a similar way that he did to homework. Something to be done at the last minute but he'll usually make off with a success.

"I'm easily bought, but I'm glad my advice was good for something. There are those who'd tell you otherwise."

And they sadly (thankfully?) aren't around right now.

[reticence]

Faolan laughs slightly, gesturing towards the food. "You're welcome to what you want. I've brought more than I anticipate showing up." He gives a slight shrug. "If that proves to be otherwise then it will be my error, and theirs for not being around sooner."

He glances aside at the other man. "Please tell me you've got more interesting business to be getting to than this, at least." Motioning again to the paperwork. He's not exactly bad at it. He's meticulous, after all. Got an attention to detail like few others. But he'd certainly rather be out in the field than behind a desk pushing a pencil some days, that's for certain. More of a stress relief. Though, he supposes, that's what his job as a Guardian is for...

[constantprisoner]

"Always," Sirius replies. There's a lot of things that he considers more interesting than paperwork. "I've been contemplating a few of the jobs available. Might head off on one of them after I've finished this donut."

Or several of them, give or take.

[reticence]

Faolan nods. "Well, I won't keep you, if you've got things to be getting to. Anything interesting, though?" he has to ask. Because anything is probably more interesting than the paperwork before him. Hell, even the bodyguard spy work had at least allowed him to exercise his brain. This is just just tedious. Necessary, of course. But definitely tedious. At least he had Willard to do the filing, otherwise he'd be really over his head in the stuff.