^ [open post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan doesn't believe in the mansion spirits, but she is being followed by something in a way that makes little sense.

It begins when she wakes up. Opening the drawer to the sideboard in her room to retrieve tea, she finds another gold chess piece wrapped neatly in ribbon. Lancelot didn't put it there - it hadn't been there when she made her pre-sleep cuppa the night before, and she woke up when he did and sleepily saw him off to his training; he hadn't gone near the drawer. She shuts the chess piece firmly away, makes her tea, and dresses blearily for her own archery practice.

There's a new bow in the closet, too. To her pleasure, it's a heavier one that requires a stronger pull - she's quite got used to the draw of the ones the closet first supplied to her.

After her shooting routine, she finds a lipstick in the precise shade Ingrid used to wear on the bathroom vanity. When she's showered and dressed for the rest of her day, she finds her favorite pastry - a sort of breakfast roll she used to get from the shop by the tube station she'd walk past on her way to work, back in London - on a platter in the kitchen.

It's when she opens one of the closets in the hall off the library to return a pile of laundered wash-cloths that she receives both some clarity and a deepening of the mystery: a jumble of assembled balloons tumbles out, made of some queer material and filled with a gas that keeps them afloat. The writing on them reads: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN PEVENSIE.

She stares at them, perplexed.


Susan's birthday post! Three days (by our reckoning) and eight months (by her reckoning) early! Feel free to have your puppets run into her in any reasonable location at any point during the day; she's just going to be accumulating more Stuff she can't get rid of as the day goes on.

Comments

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet trails after her a little, grinning anew at the kiss. "Probably. I lost track of time between Fillory and Earth forever ago. What did you get? A pony and a new Lego set?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"A chess piece, a new bow, these balloons, a personal massager... I haven't the faintest idea what might come next."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"A personal massager, or a..." Janet drops her voice and lifts her eyebrows. "Personal massager?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan draws the queer little cylinder¹ from her pocket and holds it aloft.

¹It's a bullet vibrator

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet's face cracks into a helpless grin again. "Oh, yeah. That's a personal massager. Talk about a generous gift. Or maybe someone's just a voyeur."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It's one of the better gifts so far," says Susan, with delight at Janet's smile. "Though the bow is particularly nice as well."

[sorrowandsorrow]

That perks Janet right up, almost as effectively as the vibrator. "A new one? Is it cooler?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It's a heavier draw," Susan says, flicking a flirtatious glance at Janet. "My shoulders shall be tremendous."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet's next grin is more calculated, meant to make her pleasure at the prospect perfectly clear. "I like a woman who could beat me up a little."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan lifts an eyebrow, sliding into the seat next to Janet's. "The prospect, or the actuality?" she asks, carefully tying the balloon ribbons off at the back of the chair.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet plops back down into her seat, then, still cupping her mug in both hands. "Mostly the prospect. I don't want to lose a fight. But we could always come to a draw."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan hums, intrigued. "I suppose that's something to explore."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Next time you have a birthday," Janet teases. "How old are you, anyway?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"If it is in fact my birthday, then I must be twenty-four."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Fuck," Janet says with a rueful laugh. "I'm a cradle robber."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I beg your pardon!"

[sorrowandsorrow]

"I'm thirty. I think." She shrugs, sipping her coffee without concern. "Like I said, I lost track of time for a while."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"That hardly makes you a cradle robber."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Let me have this," Janet tries. "I could go for being the sexy older woman."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I like a sexy older woman," Susan allows, "but I should like to dispense with the implication that I am an infant."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Oh, that's just a-- do they not say that when you're from?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Certainly not."

(Unfortunately, Susan's typist hasn't found a description of the phrase's origin more specific than 'first half of the 1900s,' but sources seem to agree that it's more of a US phrase than a UK phrase. And the film Cradle Robbers, which Susan is unlikely to know (but could possibly be aware of) is about literal infants. We must conclude that at the very least, no one as dared say it to Susan's face until now.)

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Yeah, that's just a thing people say. It doesn't mean you're a baby. Trust me, I know you're not a baby."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan relents. "Oh, I know you know."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Another little grin, then, sharp-edged over the remnants of her coffee. "Did you get anything else good?"