Holiday Ball! [December GM Event]

[Doc]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

Doc took the present that Lizzie had thoughtfully procured for the children, that was to be ‘from him’. “What did I get them? A video game?” He shook it. “It’s a video game isn’t it? What if they don’t have the console. They will ******* hate me…” He teased her unashamedly, while he found an open spot to stick the blue and silver box. Task complete, his full attention was returned to Lizzie, “No.. I haven’t seen him. My guess is, he is waiting for a strategic photo opportunistic entrance. My guess is that it will involve that ‘photo booth style room’ somehow.”

He noticed Lizzie’s attention on Amalea along with the woman with her while he had been toying about with the present. Lizzie took his arm, and made a straight line through the crowd to Amalea. She was a woman with a mission. What the mission was, that made her eyes glint with quiet determination, he couldn’t guess. It was barely a moment a later, that Doc found himself standing across from Amalea and a rather attractive Asian female. The Asian female that Lizzie called Amalea’s date. A slight frown marred his brow, only briefly before he schooled his features to be impassive.

Looking from Lizzie to Amalea, he gave Amalea a quick wink, before once more assuming the blank, but polite look on his face. Normally he wouldn't go to so much trouble to be blank and expressionless, but, there were a plethora of cameras and press about the room. Photos were being taken left and right, and anything less than a pleasant or blank look would or.. Could cause speculation. Speculation could quickly become rumor, then rumors could lead to false accusations, and the election would burn. But.. that did not have to be a bad thing, merely a kink or bump in the road. When things went too smoothly, you were far more likely to be blind sided. So he remained silent and resolute, being the perfect date. The silent kind that his his woman’s back… even if he had no idea what she was up to.

[Game Master]

R O L E P L A Y + P R O M P T + ! ! !

It seems those crafty holiday helpers are at it again! Right when it seems as if things are going to return to normal after the rain of tinsel on everything, a small group of the men and women in those bell laden caps and belts disperse into the crowd with sticks. These sticks have simple cotton strings attached to them, and at the other end? Sprigs of mistletoe!

The elves quickly begin to hold the mistletoe over the heads of various ball-goers. Councilman Davis at one point attempts to persuade one of the elves to hook him up with a holiday kiss by holding up a twenty and nodding her over. Unfortunately for him, this helper is not so easily bribed. She ends up holding her mistletoe over AMALEA'S head.

There is another elf standing near one of the other servers when this new game begins, who deftly, with little more than a shift of his posture and a flick of his wrist puts the mistletoe over EMBER MARCH'S head. He moves so stealthily, she may not even notice until it's too late!

There are many others whose efforts are met with a mixture of laughter and good cheer, but the final one of consequence is a sprig of mistletoe held over the head of ELIZABETH! The helpers won't hold these excuses for a little Christmas smoochin' in place for very long, so anyone who wants one had better get in there quick!

[All 'targets' chosen by random number generator. Pucker up, folks!]

[Game Master]

MORI, ayuka ◦ Hebigumo Foundation Representative ◦ #804080

[for_peace][/for_peace][for_sirens][/for_sirens]

Glitter seemed to drift down in shimmering waves. The eye catching tinsel floated towards Ayuka from above, and several of the strands caught in her dark locks, clung to the blackness of her dress, and she couldn’t stop herself from chuckling. Oh Bancroft. The Mayor certainly was trying to make things as festive as possible. Chances were it was just an effort to try and make everything look ‘good’ after how bad things had gone with Longslade only a few months back. After all. Wyatt was essentially in charge of the only known city where the undead were clustered in droves. It was his job not only to govern Harper Rock, but to make it seem as if he had control over the situation. He had an obligation to the rest of Canada and to the world. It was certainly not a job that Ayuka envied in the slightest. Especially with talk on the federal level of forcing a city-wide quarantine on the area. That would surely influence the Mayor’s power in some way. And so Ayuka carefully pulled some of the strands of shiny plastic off of herself, though didn’t bother to remove the ones that tangled with her hair. Instead, she pulled the Rudolf mask off.

She tucked it into her clutch for safe keeping, because she spotted the approach of the two figures she had been waving at only moments before. Her suspicions that Amalea knew them were confirmed when the woman with the plentiful gifts greeted her by name. And then referred to Ms. Mori as the human’s date. The Hebigumo representative glanced sidelong towards the redhead as if to ask if they were to be co-conspirators in this minor deception or if they were to come clean immediately. She sensed immediately, given the close proximity, that the pair of them were undead, though she made no outward sign of that recognition. She could almost sense the age of the woman in front of her. Was this one of those first who slipped back from the darkness? She looked for clues to confirm her belief. The woman’s dress was conservative, and yet still eye catching, dark in color. Elegant. Tasteful. The lace accent said ‘high class’.

Ayuka only got a moment to assess the man who approached as well. He was well dressed. Expensive tastes? And his features did very little to reveal what he was thinking, taken with a certain stony stoicism. “You two make an exceptionally attractive couple. It’s wonderful to meet you, I’m Ayuka Mori, public liaison for the Heibugmo Foundation.” The reason she couldn’t observe more? Because a sprig of mistletoe appeared above Amalea’s head just a second later. How fortuitous considering the situation. Well. Until Lea decided if they were going to tell the truth, it certainly wouldn’t hurt for Ms. Mori to fan the flame of rumour.

The only question was: Did she go with a delicate peck on the cheek or lips? Or did she, to use the colloquial idiom, go whole hog? Well. She was one of those people who believed fortune favored the bold, and so she stepped closer to Amalea, her hand sliding up over the woman’s shoulder. Her clutch was caught in her other fingers as the ones on the Blood Thief circled against the back of a neck underneath the gentle, fragrant weight of warm red hair. Her digits tightened just a fraction. Nowhere near enough to cause harm, but certainly enough to make it clear what her intentions were. And then she leaned in to press their lips together. Miss Ayuka tasted of autumn things, like spice, cinnamon, just the vaguest hint of sweetness, and this barely there flavor of dark rum. The kiss was not impatient, but this slow and lingering thing that only seemed to grow deeper and warmer, and paradoxically both softer and firmer. Until it ended. She pulled away. “Happy Holidays.” She repeated from before as her fingers, newly freed, carefully moved to ensure that the subtle line of her lipstick had not been damaged.

[Azraeth]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

WEARING

**** yeah! It was the holidays! And there were some very special reasons to be happy about them, which had absolutely nothing to do with Christmas, or Hanukkah or Kwanza. In fact, most of Az’s excitement for the season was for an event he had totally made up himself. Flynn Week. The week of his boyfriend’s birthday, when he shamelessly showered the other man in gifts. One each day. Like the Twelve Days of Christmas. It had been an entire week since then, and the Mystic was still buzzing about the whole thing. On the first day, there had been a wall sized portrait of himself which had been...tasteful. Yeah. Tasteful. It had actually been so large that it had been applied with adhesive as if it were wallpaper, and the frame added purely as decoration to create a facade. Day two had been a car filled with chocolates. Day three, Flynn had come home to their house filled to the brim with roses (carefully pruned of their thorns of course).

Nobody had ever accused Az of being particularly subtle when it came to expressing his feelings. He could certainly put on a game face when necessary, but in the privacy of his relationship...well. What was the point? Day four had seen the pair of them having dinner. Azraeth had actually bought the restaurant for the night and may have made a set of dinner requests which left Flynn still eating leftovers a week later. Whoops. Day five had been their comfortable Jacuzzi bath filled with red wine, adorned in rose petals, in a house lit only by candles. Right when one might have thought the vampire was running out of gift ideas, he had taken his human companion to a tailor so they could get a few matching suits made. Day seven, the final day, Az had presented his partner with invoice evidence of reservations at a local bed and breakfast; Idlewild. They had yet to use said reservations, but Az figured they would get a chance after the start of the year at some point. Indeed, there were many perils or benefits (depending on one’s point of view) to earning the vampire’s affection. The whole thing was very cheesy and totally cliche.

But intensely overboard in the way that was signature to Az.

There was a massive ball being thrown at the Mayor’s mansion. Everyone in the entire city had been invited, and there had been evidence of this on social media, as well as covered by local media, press release, etc since about the beginning of November. Originally, the vampire hadn’t been convinced that he and Flynn needed to make an appearance if only because his partner tended not to like large crowds. And frankly, Az was happy to just spend a quiet Christmas Eve and Christmas at home with Flynn, opening presents, watching his boyfriend drink hot chocolate, binging on Holiday films, and doing things in front of the fireplace that would have made most people blush.

However.

He’d heard from Amalea that she was intending to show up, and Az hadn’t seen her in a social situation (work totally didn’t count because it was work and even that had been sporadic due to certain wounds sustained for reasons), since their fight in the underground ‘fight club’ tournament. Plus, he’d seen on one of Meara’s social media pages that she was going to be there. Performing perhaps?! He had actually never gotten the chance to really sit down and listen to the woman play. And all of this combined certainly created a compelling reason to go. Naturally he was dragging his mate along for the ride. Besides. There were likely going to be way more humans there than vampires for once. Which meant less reason to be uneasy.

They arrived to a lot of fanfare , and Az waited for his partner to hand the car keys over to a valet, before the pair of them linked arms and made their way inside. It was only a few moments later that they got into the ballroom, which was covered in tinsel. Az had to resist the urge to get in there. Lay on the floor. Make tinsel angels. Instead, he released Flynn’s arm and went to the pair of large trees, so he could lay down a bow wrapped choo-choo train. It was made of wood, and had been painted in vibrant colors. There were four cars, including the engine, a coal car that said ‘Naughty’, a car filled with presents that read ‘Nice’, and then the caboose. With that done, he glanced around. Time to see if he could find people he recognized.

[Doc]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

Doc inclined his head politely to the Asian female as she noted what an attractive couple Lizzie and he made. It was that latter comment to caused a slight perking of his left eyebrow, ‘public liaison for the Hebigumo Foundation’, interesting. For the last few weeks he had been trying to find who was the mouthpiece for Hebigumo, and here she was. She.. he couldn’t help but appraise her more closely, and he wasn’t unhappy with what he learned. His next action was stalled as there was a sudden uproar and jostling of the crowd.

Doc watched the commotion of Elves darting through the crowd and unleashing the sprays of mistletoe over random females’ heads. One of the first was Amalea’s head, and the Asian female he had just appraised, locked lips with Amalea. His look of interested intrigue become one of bemusement, which then immediately turned to one of lascivious amusement as a sprig of mistletoe was dangled just over Lizzie’s head.

The calculating look that Doc had worn was wiped clean, as his lecherous side took control. He gave Lizzie a grinning leer, “Oh baby…” He turned and in doing so, turned Lizzie to face him. Pulling her to him, he bent to take her lips in a slow sensual kiss, his mouth closed over hers, the palm of his hand splayed over her back and held her against him. His lips were slightly parted as they pushed into hers, deepening the kiss, giving her a hint of things to come later. Pulling, reluctantly, free from the kiss, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Lizzie.”

Casually, as though he did that sort of thing all time, his hand moving to curl about Lizzie’s waist, as he directed his gaze back to the Hebigumo Liaison and Amalea. He gave Amalea a thorough assessment, head to toe. “You look exceptionally lovely this evening, Amalea. The color suits you.”

[Elizabeth]

The unidentified woman gave her name, but did not seem eager to attain her or Doc's which was fine with Elizabeth. In fact, if she had asked, the telepath would have given the woman her alias' name at best, simply because of the fact the woman was from a corporation that was known to have siren ties. Oh, Elizabeth was more than fine with many supernatural creatures existing in this realm, and hoped for peace, but the fact was that apparently the Siren's wished to close the realm and trap anything supernatural in there-primarily them. Which, having been trapped in there for two or so hundred years, Elizabeth found the idea extremely unpleasant.

Along with the surprise of mistletoe from an unknown party, which had Elizabeth giving Doc an amused, yet knowing smirk. Once upon a time, Elizabeth and Doc had a conversation about the 'kissing plant,' before she lost her drink on him that night. Her eyes moved to the plant to check to see if it had any berries on it, about to interject a hand for the elf to kiss, but was thankfully 'rescued' more or less, by Charles himself.

But...not before Elizabeth noticed the Siren woman take the opportunity to press her chances with Amalea, making a brow rise from Elizabeth. "Sweetheart." Elizabeth acknowledged Doc as she turned to the sound of his voice and looked at him amusingly as she saw the look in his eyes. She had expected something quick and perhaps even chaste, given her own concerns expressed a few weeks before hand. But it appeared that Doc, with his actions in the form of a type of kiss that was far from chaste or quick, that what he had told her in response to her dilemma, backed his thoughts and words spoken that night.

Both her gloved hands found the sides of his face after he ended the kiss, Elizabeth giving him another quick kiss, before she replied in kind, "Merry Christmas, Charles." As they once again stood side by side, a little more intimately than they had before, her mind wandered to a quick search of the mysterious woman's name to see if she could find anything out about the woman-good or bad to share with both Doc and Amalea (if need be), at a later time, when the woman was out of sight.

(OOC: Techokesis, plus hacking to see what, if anything Elizabeth can procure on the world of the interwebs about Ayuka Mori? >.> )

[Alaric von der Marck]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

The elder did not wish to repeat the mistakes of his part; he’d been a loner, he’d kept to himself. He hadn’t had acquaintances outside of his family and, in the end, even half the von der Marck family had thought he was a mere ghost, a myth, even though he lived in the same estate as they. He was the epitome of Dracula, a monster in the night -- though he was not a monster, merely a sprite who watched, curiously, from the shadows. As much as he would not want to admit it, his stay in the Shadow Realm had done some good. He’d acquired a much-needed rest.

Now, awake and mostly independent, the elder was showing a greater interest in the world around him. Although he had not sought them out himself, and instead had been told about them, he’d still been the one to attend meetings of political importance. He’d gone to events, he’d tried -- though mostly failed -- to forge new acquaintances. But these things did not happen overnight.

These days he was a little better informed about the goings on in the city, and did not require that he be told nor invited. He could decide to go, and go alone should he wish to. And go alone he did.

The Ball wasn’t just a Ball, the elder could see that. From the outside, it was also a political scheme. Well, scheme seemed too much a strong word, but it was a furtherance of a political ideal. It heartened Alaric that there were so many who seemed set on peace between vampires and humanity; two centuries ago, they were not given the chance. There was that thought in the back of his mind that this could be a trap, but both humans and vampires were invited. There was no bias, and nothing to mark him as one or the other.

The Ball was impressive, when Alaric finally arrived; he was late, only because he refused to be brought by car. He wondered how long he would last before he slipped away from the crowds, but for now, he was here. When he entered, he did not move to the centre of the room but instead veered to the outskirts, sharp eyes sweeping the crowd as he searched for anyone he might know. Of course, his gaze first alighted upon Elizabeth; of course she was here. She was always there. She was kissing the man whom, he supposed, was the one Ripper and Noelle had spoken of, and none so kindly. Again, he wondered, but it was not his place to interpose. He looked away.

They, too, were there, though they were a couple that Alaric wished not to associate much with. Instead, he continued to meander.

WEARING

[Clover]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

Going to the mayor’s Holiday Ball had been her idea, and yet she still felt that sense of dread. What if they didn’t know anyone? What if they didn’t enjoy themselves? What if they managed to cause a scene? Even as she applied her lipstick, the doubts kept resurfacing, rising like a tide. When her lips matched the berry shade of her dress, she replaced the cap on the tube of lipstick and dropped it into her makeup bag, where it would remain until she eventually tossed it out, just like almost every other tube of lipstick. Clo stared at her nonexistent reflection, and then she turned off the lights in the bathroom. During the elevator ride to the main floor, she took off the earrings she got to go with the dress and put them in the clutch she carried, along with the matching ring. She only wanted her wedding ring on, just her wedding ring. And they were going to have fun, she defended -- they were going to have an evening of dancing and laughter and pure goddamn fun.

The dark-grey Lexus sat outside of the building, its headlights shining out into the cold, dark night. She’d sent Jesse ahead only minutes before, just so he’d see the image of her walking to the car, all put together, rather than struggling to finish getting ready. He hadn’t seen her in the dress. He hadn’t seen her in her shoes. As she walked to the car, she smiled at him. The driver had already opened the door to the backseat, as he must have done for Jesse, and she slid into the backseat. When the driver closed the door, he circled around the back of the luxury car and got back into the driver’s seat. She or Jesse could have driven, or even taken another form of transportation, but she’d asked for a driver and demanded the man drive a nice car. When the car started moving, she finally relaxed back into the seat, but she still clutched Jesse’s hand.

What if they didn’t know anyone? What if they didn’t enjoy themselves? What if they managed to cause a scene? Clo threaded her fingers with his and they spoke to one another, but she couldn’t pay much attention with the way her stomach rocked, her gut suddenly a castaway. She didn’t notice when they arrived. The last she’d seen, they had been passing tree after tree, traveling back into River Rock from the outlands. The driver circled around the vehicle, opened the passenger door, and handed off the black gift bag, its bright red tissue paper arranged just so. The tissue paper itself concealed the art supplies from view. Hopefully, a boy or girl would enjoy them, would turn out to be quite the artist. The driver made a motion to the cars parked off to the side of the building and mumbled a few words to Jesse, but Clo just kept staring at the fine building. And when she looped her arm through Jesse’s, she continued staring, even when they were within the large ballroom, its gold embellishments taking over the roles of the stars in the sky. Everything seemed so surreal. Someone came up behind her and offered to take her fur shrug and her clutch, both of which she relinquished to the worker. She had nothing there she would ever miss, if something were to happen to her belongings.

“This place is beautiful,” she whispered to her husband. When she saw a few other guests deposit their gifts beneath the large Christmas trees, Clo made a point to motion to the trees. Someone was going to love their gift. The wrapped box concealed beneath tissue paper contained an art kit with pencils and paints and crayons, every little thing a beginning artist could want. “You look so handsome in your suit,” she told him, not for the first time that night. “**** -- I mean, um, darn -- we’re going to have a good time tonight.” An old woman scowled at her when she let the f-bomb slip, so Clo quickly corrected herself and flashed the old woman an apologetic smile.

[Jesse Fforde]

The invite had been surprising, but at the same time not surprising at all. It was just like Clover to come up with these wild schemes and, given the rocky couple of weeks they had just endured Jesse felt it paramount to try to do something about it -- even if that meant getting dressed elsewhere so that Clover could get ready alone, and waiting in the car for her, driving around to pick her up like they were two near-strangers courting for the first time.

While he waited, Jesse tugged at the tie around his neck. He was unused to wearing such confining clothing, but he had donned the suit last minute. He didn’t know whether Clover would like it or not, the fact that the only really formal suit that Jesse owned was his wedding suit. What use was it, just sitting in the cupboard all zipped up in its protective bag? A waste of money, surely. A waste of time spent stitching each little rhinestone on the lapels and cuffs. Whoever had created this slick outfit -- had they envisioned that it would be hidden from view for all eternity, except for one single night?

His head ducked as he caught movement, peering out the window to watch as Clover crossed the grass from their front door and slid into the car at his side. A dress. Of course. Dresses seemed symbolic in this relationship; Clover only ever wore a dress on special occasions, or when she had ‘surprises’ up her sleeve. Whenever she wanted to especially please Jesse, though he preferred her without any clothing at all. Whatever she wore, he was always instead seeing what he knew lay underneath.

Still, as she’d clutched at his hand he’d let all his grudges go, all the spiky uneasiness that churned at his core for entirely different reasons to Clover. He wasn’t worried about the ball, nor about making any scenes. Were they to make a scene, he was certain that he would enjoy it, indeed perhaps cause a scene on purpose, to shake things up a bit. He instead stared at Clover when she wasn’t looking, assuring himself by noting the wedding ring, and her apparent happiness. They had reconciled. Why couldn’t he just leave it be?

They’d arrived at the ball, had entered like true chariteers with their present for someone in need. Jesse couldn’t fail to imagine that there were parentless children out there due to violence that he and Clover had committed together. This, he failed to mention to his wife. He would do nothing to break her happiness.

He took Clover’s hand and lifted her knuckles to his lips. There was a gleam to his eyes. ”It’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as you,” he said, grinning at the cheesiness of his own words. She’d gestured to the trees, and he chuckled as her uncouth vocabulary earned her a glare. His Clover was still there, then -- he’d been worried she wanted to become someone else completely, someone unrecognisable. With his arm around her waist, he led her toward the trees.

”C’mon, then. Let’s give our gift. Then see what mischief we can get up to,” he teased.

WEARING

[Amalea]

[for_peace][/for_peace]

”She is quite the formidable woman.” The red-head agreed easily. The goddess was well known for being a twin, though she wasn’t defined by that as most women in early history might have been. Rather, she was a lady of many talents and of great resolve. Her dedication to her chastity and her dealings with those that attempted to place it in peril were legendary. Most were unaware that the goddess was a protector of female children. It was from that that the blood thief suspected her affinity for the goddess sprung; her childhood had been anything but normal.

”After Longslade, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a publicity thing,” she sighed softly. ”Goddess knows he and the city could use some good PR after that mess. At least, no matter the reasoning or what occurs this evening, the children benefit.” If pressed, she would be the first to admit she had security concerns for the evening. There seemed to be a distinct lack of trained guards around. Sure, she had seen some that must be security elves, but they seemed to be more for show than practicality. There was the suspicion that a ritualist had not had been contracted to ensure the night remained violence-free. Had she considered the idea earlier, she would have done so herself.

”A true friend is an exceptional rare treasure. Those are the friendships that should be nurtured.” She knew precisely what the woman meant. It was a hard, painful lesson she had learnt many times throughout her childhood. It wasn’t that she was ignorant; it had more to do with the fact that her peers found newer and crueler ways to torment the red-head. ”There’s honestly not much to tell. I spent a great deal of time in boarding school or summer camps. Once a year we’d take a vacation, but that was about the extent of it.” She wasn’t about to bore the woman with the reasons as to why it had been that way. Nor was she going to allow it to spoil the night. There were plenty of people to greet and chat with which was a more pleasing prospect. While her companion had been sizing up the Santa, she had slipped into the photo room to find the perfect clip for her hair.

A single eyebrow rose at Ayuka’s statement that Every’s dress would look like a sock on her. The blood thief was fairly certain that that statement was false. ”I don’t think I could pull it off, either.” She knew she couldn’t; she didn’t have the confidence or poise that such an outfit required. Her lips twitched into a smile as she watched Doc and Liz head towards the tree to drop off their gifts. Secretly, she was glad to see that they had come together despite the concerns she knew the English woman had had about the arrangement.

The falling tinsel reminded her of a much prettier, warmer version of snow. She knew without looking that her hair was now adorned with the shimmering strands adding a bit more festive spirit to her chosen outfit. First the beads and now the tinsel; the red-head had to wonder if Bancroft or his staff was trying to compensate for more than just the Longslade incident. Or perhaps, he just really liked shiny things like a niffler? Or even a magpie? She brushed some of the strands from her dress, particularly the flapped over section, allowing them to join their cousins upon the floor. She didn’t mind the tinsel, she just didn’t want to be fishing for it later.

She was a bit surprised that her companion removed her mask so shortly after donning it though she supposed the tinsel more than made up for it. There was no doubt that the woman would still look quite festive and eye-catching in any pictures she happened to end up in. The arrival of Liz and Doc freed the red-head from her contemplation with a smile. ”Evening,” she greeted the pair simply, not quite sure what name Liz preferred in such settings, so omitting them for simplicities sake. ”Thank you. It pales in comparison to your own. You both look amazing.” She laughed lightly, though she was quite sincere; Liz looked fantastic in her dress.

Date? What on earth was Elizabeth playing at? Surely the elder had been aware that the red-head had intended on attending the ball without a date or even an escort. The wink directed her way by Doc set her at ease as she wondered how best to answer the question, even as her companion introduced herself to the couple. The quiet that seemed to spread through the hall for a moment before hell seemed to break loose made her suspicious, distracting her from replying to the unspoken question Ayuka had posed, before she spotted the mistletoe-bearing elves. Her eyes widened as she saw a pair head their way.

The dangling plant coming to rest above her barely registered before her companion made her move. There was no doubt to the woman’s intentions given the placement of her hands and that soft, yet gentle squeeze that spoke volumes. She was aware that she could stop it with a single word or even a single action, but it was the holidays, wasn’t it? There wasn’t much harm to come from a mistletoe-inspired kiss and everything to lose if she refused and caused a scene given she had no doubt that the press had already descended like vultures. Besides, kissing a pretty woman was hardly an imposition.

Her hand reached out to rest on Ayuka’s hip slightly tugging the woman a touch closer. She leaned in to meet the kiss tasting cinnamon and spice. The old nursery rhyme that questioned what girls were made of sprung to mind* and she found it an apt description for this mystery of a woman. It was certainly an unique experience to match the variety of expressions that seemed to play out in the moments when their lips met. Whatever she expected, this blew them out of the water. As it ended, she slipped her hand off of the woman’s waist nearly in time with the fingers slid from her hair. ”Happy Holidays.” She replied as she turned slightly to eye the couple just breaking apart from their own mistletoe-fueled lip lock.

”Indeed, she is a lovely woman and a brilliant conversationalist.” The red-head grinned as she finally answered Liz’s earlier question. Her eyes twinkled in amusement as they took in Doc’s hand curling around Liz’s waist and their close proximity. ”Thank you. I didn’t want to go with a cliché red dress and I can’t really pull off most green dresses so went with something winter inspired. You look great, yourself.”

* What are Little Boys Made Of?