~ [closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Now that the Mansion is producing goods again, it's very easy for Susan to compile a picnic basket full of, essentially, the makings of a rather international charcuterie board. Four cheeses (a good British cheddar, a French camembert, an Italian sheeps-milk ricotta, and a wedge of Dutch Leyden), three meats (jamon Iberico from Spain, mortadella with pistachios, and something labeled as an American bison-blueberry salami), along with some honey, fruits and fruit preserves, a baguette, olives, nuts, and crackers. She tops this off with nice linens and silverware and all the necessary ingredients for French 75s. It's definitely more than enough for two people.

Something about the end of that dreadful month has her considering wearing color again. As a first step toward moving past mourning clothes, she experiments with a very flattering deep navy dress that's definitely not black, though it looks it in most lights. She adds a coat of lipstick, and then takes herself and her basket to Janet's room, where she raps lightly on the door.

NSFW!

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[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet's been lounging on her bed, running inconsequential little spells for the fun of seeing them work the way she wants them to: turning the pages of her notebook with a convenient breeze, cooling and then heating the room, an honestly tricky little refraction of light through her window. She knows who she hopes is at the door. Opening it and seeing the exact person she wanted to see makes her feel alarmingly like a kid for a second, the spike of excitement when the phone rings and it turns out it's for you.

"Hi," she says, half-successfully playing it cool. She would've been cooler if Susan looked less like something that stepped off a movie poster. "I can't whistle, or you'd be getting the wolf-whistle of the century right now."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan gives her a smile that could possibly be described as lascivious. "Good afternoon," she says. "I do hope you're not busy. I intend to take you on a date."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"How about that," Janet says. "My schedule just totally cleared, if you can believe it." She grins, eyes catching on every part of Susan's body as she takes in the sight of her. "Looks like there's a dress code?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Only if you'd like," Susan says - she's biased, but she does think Janet looks gorgeous regardless of what she's wearing. She reaches out with her free hand, though, to tug at Janet's shirt. "If you'd rather have a moment to prepare, I could set up and fetch you in - oh, say, fifteen minutes."

[sorrowandsorrow]

It's not like Janet would actually mind letting Susan hang around and watch while she changed, but it's the principle of the thing. You know, the idea of making an entrance. "Deal," she says breezily. To seal it, she kisses the corner of Susan's mouth, respectful of the lipstick.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan tucks an errant strand of hair behind Janet's ear, kisses her cheek - leaving behind a faint lip-print - and then goes to take her basket up to the room with all the rugs. She's moved the last few bottles of alcohol outside of it already, so it's empty of all but the rugs and some throw pillows. It's just the work of a moment to unroll a large rug with a spring flower pattern; after it's set out and she's positioned some of the pillows for comfort, she opens up her basket and lays out the supplies. Cheese board, check. Cocktail fixings, check. Oh, she ought to bring up some ice to keep things chilled, oughtn't she?

Getting an ice bucket filled and up to the room brings her right up to the edge of the promised fifteen minutes. Perhaps even a minute or two over. She rests the champagne carefully in the bucket, and then moves with all deliberate haste back to Janet's room.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet's hair really is at the stupidest growing-out stage she could have asked for, but there's literally nothing she can do about that other than tousling it faux-carelessly and leaning into the artsy bisexual look. When Susan knocks, Janet's more than ready, sleek and angular in a wide-legged emerald green strapless jumpsuit.

"Oh, hey," she says, turning her smile into an intentionally flirtatious grin. "You came back."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan matches her grin with a slow, flirtatious smile of her own. "I like this," she says, touching the neckline of the jumpsuit. Then she offers Janet her hand. "My lady. Might I escort you to your next appointment?"

[sorrowandsorrow]

"You might," Janet says, in a tone that suggests she's doing Susan a great favor by accepting this offer. She laces her fingers through Susan's, slipping her feet into a pair of heeled boots before they leave the bedroom entirely.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

So Susan leads her to the room with the rugs. She finds herself taken aback by the way this feels momentous, in a way, but then again, she supposes the rug-room is her favorite place here, and the only people who seem to know about it are ones she's specifically brought to it. And this is the first time she's bringing someone just to spend time in it the way she likes to do, sometimes, instead of simply bringing someone there to retrieve something.

When they reach the room, she give Janet's hand a squeeze. "Here we are," she says, and swings the door open.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet takes it all in for a second, poised in the doorway with Susan. It's so thoughtfully arranged, cozy and inviting like something on the front of a magazine. Susan put all this together and came for her, specifically.

"Okay," Janet says slowly, exorcising her bigger feelings as tidily as she can, "this looks amazing."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I could think of no better way to put paid to such a dreadful month than by indulging in excess," Susan says, releasing Janet's hand so that she can instead rest her hand briefly on Janet's strong shoulder and trace along her collarbone with her thumb.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet turns into the touch a little, resting her own hand at the swell of Susan's hip. "I love excess," she says with feeling. "I didn't go through all that fucked up bullshit in the desert for anything other than excess going forward."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Very good," says Susan, with feeling. She reels Janet in for a kiss, her own lipstick be damned, and then wipes a smudge of it away from Janet's lower lip with a careful flick of a finger. "I do hope you like French 75s."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet perks up, predictably. "I do," she assures Susan, giving her hip a familiar squeeze. "It's pretty rare for me to meet a cocktail I don't like, unless it's some trashy margarita in a can shit."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Margarita in a can? I don't believe I've had the pleasure," Susan says, contemplatively. "I will say I've learned that coconut-flavored rum and red wine is a dreadful combination, though."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Oh my God." Janet pulls an exaggerated face of evocative disgust. "Was it Malibu? It was Malibu, wasn't it?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I believe it might've been Malibu," Susan confirms, though her memories of that evening are weak and mostly centered around meeting Lancelot.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"They should outlaw that shit," Janet declares. "You deserve a better class of liquor."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I agree," says Susan, going to expertly open the bottle of champagne. "I'd just got here. I know better now."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Well, Janet's apparently the one being courted, here. All she has to do is arrange herself in an inviting sprawl on the various cushions. She plucks an olive from the cheese board and pops it neatly into her mouth. "It does seem like those of us who came from the twenty-first century have an advantage. We're not being surprised by new inventions all the time. Good ones like sex toys or bad ones like Mike's Hard."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Is Mike's Hard a terrible sex toy from the future, then?" Susan asks, placing the open champagne back in the ice bucket and then putting a healthy pour of gin, lemon juice, and simple syrup into the cocktail shaker she brought.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet laughs, startled into sincerity with it. "God, I wish." She pours herself a glass of champagne, not to let Susan's competence go to waste. "No. It's alcoholic lemonade. It tastes like shit."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"You add the champagne first, then?" Susan asks, shaking vigorously. "Is that another trick from the future?"

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Oh, yeah," Janet says with a grin. "This is a futuristic technique called I'm pregaming your cocktails like a college girl, because I missed champagne, and because I'm trying to drain the bottle faster so that you have to go get another and I have an excuse to watch you walk away in that dress."