Toga Party

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Atop a long table in one corner of the bar sits a row of punch bowls containing ladles and various cocktails: from margarita to plain screwdriver. These are accompanied by several bowls of ice, some containing various bottles of beer. There are stacks of plastic glasses, paper plates, napkins, and a large pile of ivy wreaths at one end. The drinks are buffet-style at this party, so help yourself.

There are plates scattered over the residual tables in the area, some overflowing with huge bunches of grapes, others containing savory fare such as chicken legs, hunks of bread, olives, cheese or humus dips.

To try and give an impromptu impression of a Roman/Greco theme, the tables have been topped with white tablecloths and chairs and surfaces strewn with ivy. If there had been a way to fashion columns or import colonnades in twenty four hours, Indy would have tried it. But ivy will have to do on short notice. At least its not poisonous.

Comments

[mnt_mike]

"Can't train. Can't walk. Makes it hard for a guy to think, that's all. I just needed some time to think."


[ooc: and lo' I am weak and need the sleep. slowtime, yet again?]

[slayer_fray]

She smiles sympathetically.

"Yeah, it's a pain when the body gets broke. Thinkin' allowed, but take care of yourself, yeah?"

[mnt_mike]

He nods, and smiles just slightly.

"Of course. Can't very well take care of everyone else if I don't. Now can I?"

[slayer_fray]

She shifts her chair closer, so she can lean into him.

"Which everyone else you takin' care of, then?"

[mnt_mike]

His arm is around her, fingers toying with the gold cord of her toga.

"Everyone everyone. Heh, you don't think all the jokes are for my benefit, do you?"

[slayer_fray]

She smirks. "Oh yes, the jokes. You can do those sittin' down, mostly. No reason to risk breakin' your leg again."

[mnt_mike]

"While it drives me bonkers to stay on my ass, I will if I have to. At least here there isn't as much fighting..."

[slayer_fray]

"You have to," she confirms, snuggling into his arm and swigging from the Tequila, offering him the bottle. "And no fightin'."

[mnt_mike]

He sighs and takes the bottle. Before actually taking a drink, he leans away from her for a second, giving her a good once over, then he takes a long drink from the bottle.

[slayer_fray]

She tilts her head at him. "What?"

[mnt_mike]

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't wearing a chain mail bikini. I've got a bad history with alcohol and women in chain mail bikinis."

There's a pause before the delayed reaction twitch takes over. It's been a very long time since he's had To-kill-ya. And never in a body that maintained a constant metabolism.

This should be fun.

[slayer_fray]

She grabs the bottle back. She may have had a bottle of the stuff already, but that's just making her giggly. She's not letting the injured human without a Slayer metabolism try and keep pace with her.

"Nope, just the toga," she says, taking a few gulps, and eyeing him.

[mnt_mike]

"I don't think I have a history with women in togas. At least, I don't think so. There might have been someone in a toga at that Halloween party April took us to, but I don't remember."

Then he hiccups.

[slayer_fray]

"You OK, there?"

[mnt_mike]

His is a grin of madcapped delight.

"Oh hells yeah."

[slayer_fray]

She smirks and chugs a little more Tequila, before pulling his arm further round her.

"Good," She says, firmly.

[mnt_mike]

"So....why tequila?"

[slayer_fray]

"Because it's there," Mel says, pointing at the tables where the cocktails are set up, mostly Margaritas. "And hey, why not?"

[mnt_mike]

"Because it's evil distilled?"

Yet, that doesn't seem to stop him from attempting to grasp the bottle.

[slayer_fray]

He's not going to get the bottle that easily.

... except Mel's already had quite a bit and he does actaully manage to grab the bottom as she brings it down, so she passes it over, grinning.

"If it's so evil, why d'you want it so much?" she asks, prodding him in the shoulder

[mnt_mike]

"Because I'm really stupid?"

He takes another drink.

[slayer_fray]

She leans back, giveing him an appraising look, then nods.

"Yes, you are," she says, smiling warmly anyway.

The she reaches to take the bottle back.

[mnt_mike]

"Why thank you fair maiden."

He rests his head on her shoulder and sighs happily.

[slayer_fray]

"Maiden?" she scoffs, but she takes another drink and reaches up to rub his hair.

[mnt_mike]

His eyes are closed and leans into the head scratch.

"You'd prefer Mother or Crone?"